


For You, I'll Try

by Ricksbowlegs



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl's PoV, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, First Love, First Time, Gunshot, Hallucinations, Infidelity, M/M, Mentions of Mental Illness, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Rick's POV, Song Lyrics, because it reminds me of them, don't know why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-08-31 19:39:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8591107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ricksbowlegs/pseuds/Ricksbowlegs
Summary: Daryl comes back to King County after twenty years gone.





	1. I Knew You Once, A Long Time Ago

**Author's Note:**

> New fic! Yay! Hope you enjoy it.
> 
> It's no surprise that I make Rick as the younger of the two (beacuse he _is_ younger in my head), and in this particular story, I kept the same age difference the actors have, so Daryl is about four years older than Rick. 
> 
> Unbeta'd. My mistakes. Sorry! 
> 
> Not my characters...sadly.

_BANNERS — GHOSTS._

_I hear voices awoken from my sleep._

_I’m haunted by the faults I grip._

_If the earthquake’s now, buildings fall._

_I’m pulling pictures off from our walls._

_Till you say: Here, here I am._

_Oh here, I am._

_All the Ghosts, they float, float around us._

_How they’ve turned all our dreams into dust._

_We saved your mother, but darling there was no spark left for us._

_We won the battle, but lost the heart._

_And now I know that here, here I am._

_Oh and here, here I am._

_Hard to believe it’s said and done._

_Hard to believe it’s not dead and gone._

_I want to believe all is well, that ends well, but I just can’t convince myself._

_Can’t touch the stars or make them shine._

_Fight the tide until the day we die._

_Can’t touch the stars, can’t make them shine._

_But you know I’ll try._

_Can’t touch the stars or make them shine._

_Fight the tide until the day we die._

_Can’t touch the stars, can’t make them shine._

_But you know I’ll try._

_For you, I’ll try._

 

Coming back to the place that took so much from him isn’t easy. The worst years of his life were spent there, each one like clawed hands, slowly ripping out pieces off his self— some of his best as well.

The town remains the same; a bit older maybe, quieter; the houses less kept than he remembers. There are a couple of new stores here and there, as well as a handful of freshly painted houses, but other than that, the town looks practically the way it did the day he left. 

As he rides his bike toward his destination, he surveys the sad, almost abandoned appearance of it and he knows he made the right choice in leaving. 

So why did he come back?

For closure, he tells himself. But he’s beginning to doubt that. He knows one thing, though. He ain’t staying.

Whatever the reason is, there he is now, standing in front of the old Dixon shack. However battered by the fist of time and the beatings it bore witness to, the fucking thing is still there, mocking him as it holds its ground in the middle of the woods. He doesn’t go in, but he plans to, at least once before he hits the road again.

Giving his back to it, he slowly makes his way toward the cemetery, taking his time to appreciate the familiarity of the woods surrounding him. They used to be his sanctuary; his shelter. They saw him grow up and become strong. He’d missed them.

Since he didn’t stick around to wait for the burial, the gravestone he’s looking for is a bit hard to find and the thought crosses his mind that it might not even be there anymore. When he finally finds it, he’s surprised to see it not only there but well kept too, like someone has actually put effort on it. There’s even a vase with a day old flowers in it, partially covering the _beloved brother and friend_ epitaph; blue ones, almost as blue as the eyes of the person who put them there, for he’s sure no one else in that God forsaken town would spare a thought for his brother, but him. 

“Shit, Merle,” he grunts tightly as he stands in front of it, swallowing the knot forming in his throat with effort. “Tha hell ya’d do that fer, man? Shoulda been me.”

_They don’ give two shits ‘bout us, lil’ brother. An’ fer all I know, they’ just waitin’ fer their opportunity t’ get rid a’ us._

Merle’s words sound loud and present as if he’d just heard them the day before. His brother repeated them often, like he wanted them implanted in Daryl’s head. 

And boy was he right. 

He was there, of course. Saw it happen. More than that, it was his fault. 

That night, he was drunk and upset out of his mind, yelling at everything and everybody that crossed his path, angry at the world and the injustice of it all. Merle followed after him while trying to keep him out of trouble. They always did that for each other. It all went downhill when he began taking out his anger on a Toyota parked outside one of them nice homes. Someone called the cops on them due to the outburst. Daryl took out his knife and a gun was aimed his way. Merle jumped in front of him and took the bullet. 

Quite honestly, to this day, he doesn’t yet know how he made it out alive.

The cops pointed their guns at him immediately after, ready to shoot him down while yelling at him to stay still. But Daryl didn’t care anymore and punched the bastard who’d killed his brother right in the jaw. 

He spent the night in jail and squeezed the juice out of his right to remain silent. Didn’t even bother testifying. He knew exactly the outcome of that trail and it certainly wouldn’t be favorable for him. What mattered anyway? They’d killed his brother. He’d never see or talk to Merle again, never go hunting together nor get shitfaced drunk or lounge in their torn-down couch all day watching cartoons. So as soon as he was released, he packed whatever shit he had and left that snake infested place; traitors all of them— Well, all except one. 

He stops for cigarettes at the gas station, keeping his head low and his hair in his face not to get recognized. It doesn’t work.

“Where have I seen that vest before?” A young female voice drawls from behind him and Daryle turns around to see a lively brunette with bright green eyes.

“Maggie?” he asks, squinting to better take in her appearance. Last time he’d seen that face, she was just a kid who loved to help him with the hard work her dad set him up for at their farm. “That really ya?”

“Tha very same,” she nods with a wide grin. “And this is ma’ husband Glenn.”

“Nice to meet you, Daryl,” the young man says nervously, holding out his hand for him to take.

He reaches out to take it and squeezes, nodding and grunting in response to the polite greeting. “Chinese?”

“I—I’m Korean,” Glenn stutters.

“Huh,” he nods, letting go of the hand.

“He was passing by on his way ta Atlanta when his car broke down,” Maggie tells him. “Found him wandering by the highway an’ felt sorry for him. Towed him to Dale’s garage so he could get back on the road as soon as possible. It’s been four years since,” she explains with a smile.

“Cute story,” Daryl smiles awkwardly. Maggie chuckles and brushes his awkwardness away. “An’ yer dad? He alright?” he warily asks. Hershel was a good man as far as he remembers. Always gave him something to do for money before he started working with Dale. It’d be a tragedy if this town had lost one of the few people that were worth anything.

She nods. “He’s doin’ fine. Got married again and gave me a lil’ sister. Beth. She’s seventeen already.”

“Good ta hear,” Daryl nods, nipping on his lower lip. “Say hi ta ‘im, fer me, yeah?” 

“Maybe ya could stop by an’ tell him yourself. He’d be glad to see ya. Daddy was worried ‘bout ya. We all were,” Maggie says. “You left without tellin’ anyone. We didn’ know what to think.”

“Sorry—I guess,” Daryl just grunts in response, not fully trusting Maggie’s words. Why would they be worried about him, and who were those _they_? 

“No need ta apologize,” Maggie says and before he can react, arms are wrapped tightly around him, “I’m just happy you’re back.”

“I ain’t ba—” he tries to say as she pulls away, but gets interrupted.

“Does Rick know you’re back?” she asks with a hopeful expression, catching him off guard. He swallows thickly and nips on his bottom lip. “You guys used ta be inseparable.”

“Used ta,” he gruffs and shakes his head. “And nah, he don’t know.”

“Well ya should go see him,” Maggie suggests. “I’m sure he’ll welcome the surprise. Seein’ you again will do him good. He’s not been’ doin’ so great lately.”

He narrows his eyes. “Why ya say that?”

“Don’t ya know?” Maggie asks with a frown. Daryl shakes his head. “Lori, his wife, she died a lil’ over a year ago.” 

Daryl’s stomach sinks. “What?” 

Maggie nods with a grimace. “She died givin’ birth to her baby daughter.” 

“Shit,” he huffs and looks down at his shoes then back up at Maggie guardedly. “And tha baby?”

“She made it,” Maggie smiles. “She’s the cutest, ain’t she?” she says, poking Glenn on the side with her elbow.

“Yes. The cutest,” Glenn repeats automatically and if he wasn’t so shaken by the news, Daryl would’ve snorted. 

“Well, we gotta go. Please, do stop by. We’ll make a huge ass dinner for you. Everyone will be happy to see you back.”

“Who’s everyone?” Daryl frowns.

“Oh, ya know, Dad, Carol, Patricia and Otis, Dale…”

“Um…sure,” he says, not really intending to go, and shakes Glenn’s hand again when it’s awkwardly held out for him to take. Maggie gives him a tight hug goodbye. 

Once alone again, he buys his cigarettes and steps outside, lights one up as he tries to wrap his mind around what Maggie told him. 

He’s not surprised to learn that it’s Lori who Rick married. She had the biggest crush on him and Rick’s parents liked her a great deal. But Lori is dead now and Rick is not doing well. However, seeing him wasn’t part of his plans and it still isn’t. What good would his presence do anyway? For all he knows, Rick hates his guts. 

It’s a cheap, crappy motel he’s staying at, but it’s got everything he needs, which has never been much to begin with. Hell, he’s able to survive with nothing but his crossbow for weeks on end. And he doesn’t plan on staying long. But he does need food so he rides the short distance to the supermarket to buy crap that hold no nutritional value, but sure taste good. 

He’s picking the brand of beer that’s just between cheap and still sort of good to complement his dinner consisting of chips and a bag of Kit-Kats when an unmistakable voice gasps his name.

Daryl turns around slowly and his heart skips a beat at the sight. 

“Is that really you?” Rick asks, tilting his head to the side. Rick Grimes, the main reason his life in king county had any shine to it. 

In spite of what Maggie told him, Rick looks just fine. Those handsome features look twenty years older than the last time he saw them, with tiny crinkles in the corners of his eyes and silvery streaks to his stubble, but he looks as beautiful as he remembers him—Heck, maybe more if that’s remotely possible.

“Yeah,” he gruffs awkwardly.

“Wh—what are you doin’ here?” Rick stutters, still in shock; voice shaky with nervousness. “When did you arrive?” 

“Jus’ this mornin’,” he grunts in answer to one of the questions for he doesn’t yet know the answer to the other one. His eyes trail down to the toddler sitting in Rick’s shopping cart to escape the insistent stare. “She yours?” He asks stupidly. Of course she is. She’s Lori’s baby, no doubt.

“Yeah,” Rick smiles, and damn that smile; it brings Daryl back to better times and warms him up in ways he hasn’t felt in so long he’s forgotten what it feels like. He used to love to tell lame jokes to spring up that gorgeous smile. “Her name’s Judith,” Rick says and picks his daughter up from her seat, stepping closer to him to introduce them. “This is Daryl, an old friend of daddy. Say hi to him, sweetheart,” Rick coos in a way Daryl would snort and roll his eyes at if it were anyone else doing it, but this is Rick and he’s always found Rick unsettlingly adorable. And then Judith waves at him and he can’t help the tiny smile that grazes his lips.

“Hey , lil’ one,” he says, a lot less awkward than he actually feels, and passes some of the multiple packages to one arm. With his now free hand, Daryl takes the tiny hand in his and shakes it. “Nice ta meet ya, Judith,” he says and Judith smiles at him while telling him some babbling form of hello. 

Rick looks up from his daughter and back to him. “She likes you.”

“She’s Lori’s, right?”

“Y—yeah…” Rick says, giving him a curious look.

“Ran inta Maggie earlier. She told me...” he explains.

“Ah, well…” Rick sighs sullenly, “guess ya know, then.”

“m’ so sorry, man,” Daryl drawls, a sharp pang of guilt hitting him square in the gut at springing up the pain in those eyes. He’s about to say more; ask Rick how he’s doing or anything really, but Rick interrupts him.

“Thank you,” he says, offering a brief, forced smile and quickly changes the subject as he sets Judith back in the cart seat. “So…are you just passing by or stayin’?”

“Just passin’ by.”

Rick’s hopeful expression falls at that and he drops his chin. “On your way to where?”

“Not sure, but sum'where,” he says quickly. 

“And what’re you gonna do when you get there?” Rick pries. Not that Daryl minds.

“Been planning on opening a garage,” he shrugs. "Ain't decided it yet."

“So when are you leaving? We need to get together before you do,” Rick says. That last part comes out unbidden and the younger man looks embarrassed for a moment.

Daryl hides a smirk. “Gonna stay ‘ere fer a couple more days, I guess."

Rick nods, pursing his lips. “Then we should get together as soon as possible in case you decide to take off suddenly,” he says with a wry smile. 

Daryl knows there’s no malice in those words or in the younger man’s tone, but they are far from innocent. There’s hurt deeply ingrained in those blue eyes and he really can’t blame him for the snarky comment. After all, he left without even saying goodbye.

“Ya free tomorrow?” he asks, looking down at Judith as she takes out a mini apple slice from the Ziploc bag firmly clutched in her grasp and holds it out for him to take. He smiles at her and takes it then puts it in his mouth. “Thanks, lil’ one.”

Rick’s wry smile sweetens as he watches their exchange. “See? She likes you. She doesn’t want you to go hungry.”

“She’s a cute kid,” he says after swallowing the tiny slice of apple.

“So tomorrow?” Rick presses and Daryl has to hide a tiny smirk at the urge in the man’s voice.

“Tomorrow,” he nods, surprised by how comfortable it feels to be in Rick’s presence after the initial awkwardness. It’s almost like old times. Almost. “We can go ta Joe’s fer a couple a’ beers. Sound alright?”

“It does,” Rick says with a smile. They hold each other’s stares for a few seconds before they chuckle and bashfully look away. Daryl has to shake his head a bit to bring himself down from the high looking into those cobalt blues put him into. And damn him if there’re butterflies fluttering about in his stomach. 

He ends up walking Rick to his car and loading it with the groceries while the man secures his daughter in her seat. 

“Thank you,” Rick says as he approaches him to close the truck door himself. 

“Was nothin’,” he shrugs, stepping aside.

“Dale,” Rick says out of the blue.

Daryl frowns. “What ‘bout him?” 

“His wife’s sick.” Rick squints. “You should go see him before you go.”

He hums. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Well, I gotta go,” Rick says and fixes him with an unreadable look in his eyes. “It was great seein’ you again, Daryl.”

Daryl nods and looks into Rick’s eyes intently. There’s so much hanging between them that the tension is palpable and the archer can sense Rick is holding back a great deal. Whether it’s a punch or an avalanche of hard feelings, he’ll take it without complaint tomorrow. He owes Rick that much. 

Back at the motel, he can barely eat anything but a Kit-Kat. But he does drink all the beers while he watches TV, or tries to for all he can think of is Rick. Sure, he was prepared to run into him eventually—though not so much the flood of emotions said meeting would provoke. It was like everything he’d ever felt for the younger man back in their youth had been dormant, patiently waiting for the smallest nudge to wake up; but seeing Rick face to face was no nudge, it was a downright, powerful strike of lightning sending all his emotions ablaze. 

He falls asleep out of pure exhaustion and he dreams of blue eyes and a smile that could light up any darkness in his soul. It’s nice for a moment, but then all goes to shit when his dad storms into his dream and starts hitting Rick. He yells for him to stop for he cannot move. When his dad looks up at him, it’s himself staring back at him and Daryl freezes.

He wakes up with a startle and doesn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

The next day, he wakes up with Rick’s words circling in his head, so he takes a quick shower and heads out. 

“Daryl? Is that you?” 

Daryl nods, stepping into Dale’s garage and then Dale is taking long strides toward him until arms wrap around him tightly. Daryl frowns; hesitant on how to take this overly warm greeting, so he just pats the older man’s back a couple of times and lets him squeeze him in his embrace. Aside from Rick and Hershel, and his family; _and_ Carol, Dale was one of the few people in King County who ever treated him and his brother as people. With him he learned most of what kept him fed and warm for the last two decades. He owed Dale a lot.

“We’re have you been all this time?” Dale asks merrily as he finally pulls away, fixing him one of those inquisitive glances. “I thought you were dead.”

“Just had t’ get away, man.”

“For twenty years?” 

Daryl shrugs then nods.

“A lot of people missed you, you know? Rick specially,” Dale says, pointing a finger at him. “Did you see him already? I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see you.”

“Yeah, saw him,” he says, nipping on his lower lip. “He told me to come see ya. Told me ‘bout yer wife. How she doin’?”

Dale offers a twisted smile that more resembles a grimace. “She’s hanging in there,” the man sighs. “I’ve been trying for two months to sell this place so I can get her the best treatment possible.”

It dawns on him suddenly, what a slick lil’ bastard Rick is. Man, it was a bad idea to come. He’s gonna falter, he knows it. Just one more look into those desperate, yet hopeful eyes and he’s done for.

“She’s the light of my life.”

Daryl sighs and hangs his head low. _Yer gonna pay fer it, Grimes._

He looks up again and grunts. “How much ya askin’ fer it?”


	2. Rekindling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update!! I thought it would be ready yesterday night, but...Here it is! Hope you enjoy! :D
> 
>  
> 
> Remember this work is unbeta'd. I apologize for the mistakes.
> 
>  
> 
> ***Check the tags for updates***

Daryl is already waiting for him outside of Joe’s when he arrives and relief floods him. The man’s there, he hasn’t left town and is currently leaning against his bike and wearing a black leather jacket, looking dangerously handsome. Rick’s heart rate starts racing as the hunter stands straight at the sight of him.

He hardly got any sleep the night before, struggling to come to terms with Daryl’s unexpected return and convincing himself of its veracity through most of it. And yet, seeing him again turns Rick’s stomach into knots.

“Hey,” he greets once he’s standing in front of Daryl, hesitant on what to do next. Daryl decides for both, giving his upper arm a brief, although firm, squeeze before nodding toward the door to the bar.

“Shall we?” 

Rick smiles and nods.

While Daryl makes his way to the bar to greet Joe, Rick finds a table and settles down, using the opportunity to study the man from afar. He’s bulkier now, older, with silvery hair in his chin framing a fuller face, but just as handsome as he remembers him. Rick can’t take his eyes away from him, not even when he’s caught looking, and he keeps his eyes fixed on the man as he carries their beers toward the table and sits down in front of him. And even then, he can’t look away. 

“Somethin’ on ma’ face?” Daryl rasps, glancing at him through his bangs.

“Sorry, it’s just…” Rick sighs and looks down, breaking his insistent stare for a short moment before locking it back into those evasive dark blues, “…you’re here.”

Daryl says nothing, but he’s got this tiny smile on his lips as he uncaps one of the single beers and slides it across the table to set it in front of him.

“Thanks,” he says and takes a small sip, dries his mouth with the back of his hand and clears his throat. “So what’ve you been up to today?” 

“Nothin’ much,” Daryl shrugs after taking a sip from his own beer.

“Did you go see Dale?” Rick peeks at the man, trying to keep a straight face and his tone as innocent as possible. 

Daryl hums and nods. 

“How’d it go?” he asks after a silent pause, impatient for the answer.

“Fine.” 

When Daryl doesn’t elaborate, Rick sighs and drops all subtleties. “Did he tell you about his garage? I think he’s interested in selling.”

Daryl shakes his head in a casual manner. “Seems he ain’t lookin’ ta sell anymore. Didn’t mention it.” 

Rick’s stomach sinks and he looks down at the table to hide his disappointment, missing the tiny smirk in the other man’s lips.

When Daryl left, he was devastated and it took him years to finally accept the fact that he wasn’t coming back. And to have him return to him only to leave again, quite possibly for good, is something he can’t easily accept. But what can he do? Beg him to stay?

Taking a deep breath, he decides to let it go for now and smirks at what he’s about to say. 

“Are you dyeing your hair, Dixon?” 

“Piss off,” Daryl scoffs and takes a gulp from his beer to hide the bashful smile that tugs at his lips. 

“I was sure you were a blond,” he teases.

“Got a problem with it?” Daryl says in a mock-threatening tone. Rick chuckles and so does Daryl. It’s been twenty years, but in that moment, they’re the same dorks they used to be back in their youth. 

“So…are you gonna tell me what you’ve been up to since you left? And where?” Rick asks in a forced-casual tone. He’s been dying to know.

Daryl takes a deep breath before answering. “Bit a’ everywhere. Rode ‘round tha country fer a while, picking up jobs here and there, moving onto the next town after I made enough to take off again,” he says, toying with the label on his beer. “A few years ago, I stopped near Richmond. They were sellin’ this garage an’ I had the money. Never been much of a spender. So I bought it and worked ma’ ass of ever since. Sold the place a couple months ago… an’ now I’m here.”

“Virginia, huh?” Rick sighs, idly caressing the neck of his bottle. “It’s close…relatively.” He holds Daryl’s gaze for a moment while biting his bottom lip. “I always pictured you somewhere… _far_.” 

“Nah,” Daryl shakes his head, giving him a furtive glance, “just been ’round.”

Rick nods silently and takes three long gulps of his beer. 

For so many years, he’s been trying to make sense of Daryl’s inability to come back, coming up with ridiculous scenarios in his mind as to why it was impossible for him to do so— even thinking him death at some point—but learning Daryl was _just about_ during those long years, and not unable, but _unwilling_ makes his stomach churn with disappointment and rejection. He can’t help but wonder if Daryl would’ve looked for him had they not ran into each other at the supermarket. 

Probably not.

“Ya okay?” Daryl asks, noticing his change in demeanor. 

He nods tightly. “Fine.” 

After the third beer, Rick relaxes and lets go some of the tension, they both do, and start talking as they used to. They’re even laughing as they recall moments from their youth.

“’Member tha first time me an’ Merle took ya campin’ an’ told ya the chupacabra story?” Daryl says with mirth, “ya were scared shitless ta go out peein’. Had ta go with ya an’ hold yer hand.”

“I do remember,” Rick laughs then scoffs. “You didn’t _hold_ my hand.”

“Ya still made me keep a hand on ya so ya’d know I was there.”

“I was sixteen,” Rick says in his defense. “And you guys were really mean to me. I was sure you’d leave me alone in the middle of the woods if I let you off my sight, which you did once or twice,” he reproaches.

“Weren’t _that_ mean,” Daryl mumbles through a half smirk. 

“Yes, you were,” Rick counters with a grin. “I was traumatized by that story and you guys used it against me any time you could.”

Daryl shrugs. “Loved ta see ya scared. Ya’d jump an’ clung ta me at every sound comin’ from the woods.” 

He grins for he clearly remembers exaggerating his still-very-much-real fear for the same reason. “Well, tormenting me with the Chupacabra story wasn’t the only thing you did to me,” Rick comments. “You rubbed Poison Oak on my underwear once, remember? Or the time you put a dead snake inside my sleeping bag?”

Daryl chuckles. “Pretty sure tha was all Merle, but yeah, I ‘member that.” 

Rick shakes his head, smiling. “Merle loved to see me in distress.”

“Yeah,” Daryl nods. “He was a dick. At last ya got back at him that time we got ya drunk an’ ya threw up all over him.”

“I don’t remember that,” he laughs, “but I _do_ remember the morning after and Merle scolding me for it. And for the record, you were both dicks.” 

Daryl snickers in agreement. “Ya still loved hangin’ out with us.”

Rick smiles. “Could you blame me? You were older and so much cooler than me. You could to do everything I couldn’t: smoke, drive a bike, swear all you wanted, hunt and track and use a crossbow. You guys were my idols. Plus, my dad strictly forbade it so...” he shrugs.

The archer snorts. “Kinda ironic fer a guy who’s life dream was ta be a cop an’ ‘bide by tha rules.”

“I was young,” he says and smirks against the bottle as he takes a sip.

“An’ annoyin’,” Daryl adds, toying with his lighter. “At least at first.”

Rick smirks after swallowing. “Yeah, well, you never downright told me you wanted me gone. You just got me bruised and scraped with every crazy challenge you bestowed upon me.”

Daryl nods. “And ya did all a’ ‘em without hesitation. Ya were pretty tough considerin’ ya was one a’ ‘em good kids. Ya barely complained when ya got hurt so we was forced ta let ya ‘round us eventually. An’ ya were cute,” Daryl admits.

Rick smiles at that. He still remembers the time Daryl let it slip that he thought he was cute while they were swimming at the lake. He received a non-too-gentle punch in the arm and a threat not to ever repeat what he’d heard. But of course, he wasn’t one to let such a subject drop and had Daryl admitting his feelings toward him eventually. 

“Why didn’t you come back?” Rick grumbles suddenly, unable to hold back the question any longer.

Daryl looks up from his beer, eyes hiding behind his bangs. He says nothing. 

“I thought—” he continues, “I thought there’d be more time.”

“Time fer what?” Daryl asks gruffily, keeping his eyes trained on his bottle as he picks at the label. 

“The day before Merle,” he says, fighting the urge to cry, “I came out to my dad about you. I told him I loved you and that he had to accept that, that I’d made my choice. That night, I looked everywhere for you: Your dad’s cabin, the lake, here, I even ventured into the woods alone for a couple hours. I searched everywhere. I was desperate to tell you.”

“Rick—”

“And then Merle got shot…” 

Daryl keeps quiet so he goes on.

“When they let you go, you were out of it and with reason,” he says around a knot in his throat. “I couldn’t tell you then and you wanted to be alone. Then you just took off without sayin’ anythin’.”

“I had to leave,” Daryl says finally.

“I know,” he sniffs and nods. “I understood… but I really thought you’d come back eventually.”

The hunter sighs deeply. “I’m sorry, Rick.”

“What hurt the most was that I was certain you would. I told my father not to celebrate yet. I was so confident you’d be back. _Just wait and see_ , I told him,” he laughs bitterly. 

He can feel Daryl blaming himself. It’s not his intention to make him feel guilty, but he needs to let it out. He’s been keeping it in for way too long. 

“After years of waitin’ I gave up. Lori and I started dating. My parents were happy. We got married and had Carl the next year. I told myself I was happy and it turned out to be true. I don’t regret marrying Lori. We were very happy for a while. And if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have my kids. They’re everything to me,” he says, intently looking into Daryl’s eyes. “But every once in a while I wondered… what if?”

“Might’ve hated my guts eventually…an’ winded up with Lori anyway,” Daryl argues weakly.

“Yeah,” Rick snorts, keeping to himself the _not possible,_ saying, “I still missed you, Daryl,” instead.

“Me too.”

“Somehow that’s hard to believe,” he croaks.

“I did,” Daryl nods, “every day.”

Rick swallows thickly and looks down at his hands to break their stare. He knows, of course, what happened with Merle. He understands Daryl’s pain and guilt. But that cop had it in for them for a while. And in a way, he was glad Daryl had left. After the burial, people were nasty. Merle was a trouble maker. Everybody in town knew it. But a bad guy he was not, neither of them. He heard more than once from neighbors how relived they were because the Dixons weren’t gonna cause them more trouble. He was so angry he almost took off himself, and he would’ve if he’d known were Daryl had gone off to. 

Rick smiles halfheartedly. “I often wondered if I’d die not knowing what happened to you, Daryl Dixon.”

Daryl takes a deep breath and lifts his beer bottle to his lips, speaking first. “Well, ‘ere I am.”

“Here you are,” he smiles, holding the archer’s dark gaze as he mimics him; bringing his bottle to his lips to take a sip. 

“So did you go see him?” he asks after he swallows. “Merle?”

“Yeah,” Daryl says tightly. “Thank you for…for goin’.”

“No need for that,” he smiles sadly. “He was my friend.”

“I’m sorry,” the hunter sighs deeply. “I forget ya lost ‘im too.”

He smiles sadly. “I’m sorry, too.”

An hour later, Rick has to go. Not out of wanting to, of course, but Beth has school the next day and he really should’ve left an hour ago. He makes a mental note to pay her extra for the trouble.

Daryl walks him to his car and Rick holds out his hand. “See you around?” he says. Daryl looks at the hand and squeezes tightly before letting go. They stand there awkwardly for a few seconds, looking into each other’s eyes in silence, until Rick breaks it with a strained _goodbye_ and reluctantly makes to turn toward his car door to open it, only Daryl stops him from doing so and pulls at his wrist to spin him around.

There’re lips against his suddenly, soft and tender and he melts into the unexpected kiss, opening his mouth in synch with Daryl’s and sticking his tongue out to meet the archer’s. 

Wrapping his arms around those broad shoulders, Rick loses himself in the moment. And suddenly he’s desperate; desperate for more. 

“Daryl,” he moans against the lips he obsessively dreamed of kissing again and clings to the man he used to love with everything his young heart had to offer. “Please—”

Daryl shushes him and reaches down between their bodies to palm his growing erection. Rick frowns. It’s not usually this easy to get him in the mood. He shrugs his musings away and welcomes the attention greedily, moaning the hunter’s name once more, like he needs to say it to remind himself that this is really Daryl and this is in fact happening. 

Their touches and kisses become bolder; hands and mouths catching up with years of yearning. 

Rick slides his hand down to cup Daryl in return. He smiles, remembering the girth of it as if merely yesterday he’d had it buried inside him. 

He gasps when he’s turned around and pressed against his car. 

“Condom?” Daryl whispers against his ear as he presses his chest against Rick’s back and his erection against his ass, making the younger man shiver with excitement. 

Rick shakes his head vigorously. “No condom. Just do it.”

“Ya sure?”

“Fuck, yes, Daryl, please…”

No more convincing is needed. Daryl’s hands work his belt open and down his pants all the way down to his thighs. He moans softly and pushes his ass back in invitation. When fingers enter him, he’s suddenly extremely grateful for the lack of lighting in that parking lot…so very grateful.

When Daryl breaches him, Rick has to bite his lower lip not to cry out. It’s dry and it stings a bit, but he’s in heaven anyhow. He welcomes the ache like he welcomes the encompassing flood of emotions awakening from the corners of his conscience; each thrust reviving too old memories, yet fresh like the crisp night air. He’s never allowed himself to let go of his first love’s memories.

Daryl comes first and Rick is about to tuck himself back in his pants as he is—hard and about to burst—when one strong hand wraps around him and strokes him into release. He comes harder than he has in years.

“Shit,” he huffs when Daryl pulls out gently, struggling to catch his breath and resting his heated cheek against the cold car window.

“Don’t tuck in just yet,” Daryl says, accompanied by a shuffle of clothing and followed by a ripping of fabric. 

Rick turns his head to look over his shoulder to see Daryl has taken his leather jacket off and has ripped one of his shirt sleeves off. 

“Stay still,” Daryl gruffs and uses the fabric to wipe the still warm release from his body.

“Your shirt,” he says once he snaps out of his trance. “Why’d you rip it? I have paper towels—”

“T’s just an old shirt. No big deal,” Daryl reassures and turns him around gently.

Rick just stares in wonder as the older man pulls his pants back up, taking extreme dedication to refasten his belt and rearrange his jacket. He’s forgotten what it felt like to be coddled like this. Daryl used to be an expert at it. Still is, apparently.

Cupping his face with both hands, the archer leans closer to kiss him chastely, the sweetness of it warming Rick inside out and he almost feels like crying. 

“I wanna… see you again… before you go,” he says between kisses.

“Tomorrow,” the older man whispers against his lips. “Come down ta tha lake in the mornin’. I’ll be waitin’.”

Rick smiles dazedly. “Yes,” he replies a tad too eager then hesitates, pulling back a bit to look into those dark blue eyes. “I—I’ll have to take Judy with me…if that’s okay.”

“’Course it’s okay,” Daryl assures with a tiny, reassuring smile and delves in for another kiss. Rick opens up to welcome the exploring tongue.

As soon as Daryl’s bike goes the other direction, remorse and guilt and a bunch of other unpleasant feelings invade him. It only grows stronger as he gets closer to home.

He’s a cheating sack of shit.

 

“It’s late,” Shane says as soon as he opens the door. His partner stands by the door, still wearing his deputy uniform and looking dangerously calm. 

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs and looks around the living room. “Carl?”

“In his bedroom,” Shane informs. “What was the emergency?”

“What?” Rick asks dumbly and licks his lips; his mouth going dry all of a sudden and his stomach twisting with nerves. 

Closing the door, he makes his way toward their shared bedroom, hoping for Shane to drop the subject.

“You’re supposed to call Beth only for emergencies,” Shane elaborates, following Rick into their bedroom and toward Judith’s crib. “C’mon, Ricky, spill. Where were you?” 

He knows as well as Shane does that he’s a terrible liar.

“I was at the bar,” he informs quickly and leans over Judy’s crib to check if she’s well tucked in. After a heavy, silent pause, Shane moves closer and takes a sniff at him. “I had a beer. Just one,” Rick presses even though he had three, or more. His mind is slightly fuzzy at the moment. 

“And with who, if I may ask?” Shane inquires.

“Michonne,” he says quickly. “She was in town for a bit and called me. Wanted to see me before heading back to Atlanta. That’s—that’s why I called Beth.”

Rick knows he shouldn’t be lying knowing how small the town is, for if Shane doesn’t run into Daryl, someone will break the big news to him that youngest Dixon came back after twenty years away and Shane will make the connection immediately. But he can’t stop himself at the moment. He’s terrified. 

When he turns back to Shane, the man looks skeptical. There’s a tiny smirk curling his lip upward that’s everything but welcoming as the man scrutinizes him with those dark eyes. Rick looks away, unable to hold the intense stare. 

“H—how was your day?” he asks hurriedly, hoping to distract the other man. Unless he’s got business in mind, Shane loves to boast about work.

“Nothing interesting,” Shane says shortly and steps closer until they’re almost chest to chest and Shane’s arms are circling his waist. “Thought ‘bout you all day, in fact…how I’d take you when I came home...”

Rick tenses when Shane’s mouth presses against his neck, trying to remember if Daryl gave him a hickey, or if that intoxicating, manly scent stuck to his clothes. His heart pounds against his ribcage at the possibility. Only when Shane’s hands travel down his back to cup his clothed ass, does he jerk away.

“Tha hells the matter with you?” Shane reproaches, giving him an irritated look.

“Bathroom. Be right back,” he says nervously and locks himself in it. He could’ve sworn he felt some of Daryl’s release trickling down his thighs just as Shane’s hands were reaching for that spot, but when he checks, nothing’s there. There’s still cum inside him, though and Shane will know immediately if they fuck. He never says no. If he does now, Shane will definitely know something’s up.

After cleaning himself as deep as he can reach, Rick opens the bathroom door and comes face to face with Shane.

“Who were you out with?” Shane asks ominously. Rick swallows hard.


	3. Out In The Open

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Update! Yay!! I'm very sorry for the delay. Still, I hope you enjoy this new chapter. Tell me what you think.
> 
> Thank you so much for the support! 
> 
> Remember this work is unbeta'd. They're all my mistakes. I apologize for each.

“There you are!” Rick says excitedly as he sprints toward him, where he’s been waiting for at least an hour for the younger man, sporting that splitting smile that makes his eyes wrinkle at the corners, colliding against his chest in an overly enthusiastic hug, like they didn’t just see each other that very same afternoon. 

“’Course m’ ‘ere. Been here fer a while,” he grunts, throwing the stick he’d been teasing the fire with right in the middle of it. “Thought ya wasn’t comin’.” 

“My dad wouldn’t fall asleep. I had to climb out through my window. Scraped my hand an’ all,” Rick explains slightly out of breath and shows his injured palm to Daryl.

Daryl takes the hand in his and inspects it closely. It’s only a tiny scrape. 

“Think ya’ll live,” he teases.

Rick snorts and takes his hand back, then nods toward the fire. “You built a fire, I see.”

“Yeah,” he says distractedly as his eyes trace the face in front of him carefully. Rick is ridiculously pretty. He’s got the plumpest, pinkest lips he thought possible in a man, and bright, cobalt blue eyes; all framed by the fluffiest, softest dark curls. If Rick’s wishes become a reality and they do end up together for the rest of their days, Daryl will never get tired of looking at that face.

There’s a long pause as they study each other. Then they chuckle and bashfully look away. They’re a couple of dorks, is what they are, especially tonight. 

Daryl grunts, shifts awkwardly on his feet and asks Rick for the hundredth time: “Ya sure ‘bout this?” 

The younger man—for he is a man now—sighs and gives him a determined look. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

It was Rick’s birthday that day; his _eighteenth_ birthday and they’ve been planning this night for months. Well, Rick has. Daryl still has qualms about the whole thing.  
He isn’t a virgin by any means. He had his fare share of encounters before he started this thing with Rick; mostly chicks and boys he can hardly remember their faces or names now. But Rick is, of course, as pure as the day he was born. Not by choice, though. If it had been up to only Rick, they would have done it a while ago.

“Just checkin’,” Daryl shrugs.

Rick smiles sweetly and leans closer to give the archer a tender kiss. When he pulls away, he looks Daryl straight in the eyes. “I want it to be you, Daryl.”

For some strange turn of the universe, Rick wants him to be his first. _Him_ , of all people. Even Shane seems like a better option compared to him, and Shane’s a mayor douche bag.

And there his problem lies. Rick is too good for him. The teen comes from a respectable family. He’s a good student and a good friend to anyone who’d be willing to befriend him. He’s sweet and kind and generous, always looking to make the world a better place for everyone; whilst Daryl is always looking to destroy it. 

Everybody in town knows Dixons are bad news. Which has more benefits than not. People don’t cross them and leave them alone for the most part. But apparently, no one gave Rick the message. The teen’s got his stubborn mind set on him; loves him even, or so he keeps saying. Daryl isn’t convinced, however. He knows one day Rick will snap out of whatever daze he’s been trapped in and turn his back on him to find someone who actually deserves him. And he won’t blame him for it.

Tonight doesn’t seem to be the time for that, though, for Rick isn’t backing down on his decision.

And Daryl is terrified. 

For one, he needs to make sure he doesn’t hurt Rick, and he has to make it enjoyable and memorable for the teen in equal measures. It’s Rick’s first time after all and this moment will always come back to him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Rick says with a smile, hauling Daryl back from his self-doubting spiral. 

“Yeah?”

“You can’t wait to fuck me,” the kid—scratch that—the _man_ teases.

A shiver runs up and down Daryl’s spine and his blood rushes to his dick in an instant at those words. Rick _never_ curses. 

“Daryl,” says Rick more seriously. “You won’t mess it up.”

“How ya know?” he asks huskily, finding it hard to focus entirely when his torn up jeans are so tight across his bulging crotch.

“Because it’s you,” Rick simply says. “You always know what to do.”

Daryl is well aware of the fact that he’s just a foulmouthed redneck with a crossbow and a bad attitude, but for some uncanny reason, he’s like a superhero in Rick’s eyes. He’s about to joke about it but holds himself back, deciding to believe Rick’s unwavering faith in him just this once, taking the compliment for what it is and roll with it. 

He gestures toward the worn out tent. “Let’s go in, then.”

They go in and sit facing each other as they decide on how to do it. Daryl’s got a brand new condom package and at least three vials of lube at hand. 

“Ya wanna be on yer back or—”

“You tell me,” Rick interrupts with resolve. The younger man is begging him to take charge. So he does.

Reaching out to brush one of those wild curls away from Rick’s lovely face, Daryl leans closer to kiss the delicious mouth. It’s a tender, slow kiss, not meant to claim but to explore. They know each other’s kisses well, but tonight, everything feels new and exciting.

Taking his time to prepare the virgin opening, he caresses every patch of supple flesh with expert, gentle hands, to keep Rick’s mind off the pain, teasing and working the man underneath into a whimpering, writhing mess until he’s begging Daryl through heavy pants to go further.

Entering Rick for the first time, knowing no one has had that honor before him, is exhilarating and Daryl can’t take his eyes off his boyfriend’s debauched form as he thrusts in and out of the tight warmth, entranced by the beautiful sight. 

As Rick nears his climax, Daryl strokes the young shaft in rhythm with his thrusts, turning Rick into an eager bundle of cries and moans as he tugs Daryl impossibly closer, wraps his limbs around him, and begs against his hear for him to fuck harder. 

It doesn’t take long for Rick to come after that, and when he does, Daryl stops all ministrations and pulls out to finish himself off. He can’t have it being too much for Rick on his first time. 

“I can’t believe you had me waiting almost two years for this,” the teen huffs once he returns from post-orgasmic oblivion.

“Ya didn’t like it?” Daryl asks guardedly after he’s thrown the used condom out of the tent.

“I fucking loved it,” Rick huffs passionately and reaches for his hand to pull the hunter back on top of him. “Let’s do it again.” 

And Daryl does as his love asks for he can’t help but indulge Rick in anything he wants. He’s besotted to questionable extents and nothing he can do will stop that. Not that he’d want to, anyway.

* * *

Puffing out smoke, Daryl waits for Rick to make his appearance in that very same spot, much like he did that first night all those years ago. And like that first time, Rick is delayed.

He can’t yet wrap his head around what happened the night before, how unbearably natural it was for them to pull each other close and kiss and fuck and moan the other’s name like nothing had changed from their youthful days and that unforgettable first time, but for a few grey hairs and aches in their joints; not even the fierce love they had for each other— at least for his part.

Letting out a long sigh, Daryl hangs his head. _This was not supposed to happen_.

“I’m sorry to be late,” Rick apologizes when he finally graces him with his presence, but doesn’t elaborate. Not that he has to.

“Ya okay?” he asks, studying Rick’s slightly nervous semblance to which the younger man nods tightly. “Then no need ta be sorry.”

Then, Rick grins. “I made lunch.”

The fact that they had sex just the night before creates a palpable tension between them, and an awkward silence as they set up their improvised picnic that little Judith saves them from.

“Daryl,” Rick says, pointing to his daughter sitting in the middle of the picnic blanket, holding up a teddy bear toward him. Daryl takes it from the tiny hands to inspect it closely. It’s the typical teddy bear with a red bow tie. 

“Who’s this guy?” Daryl asks Judith who answers with more babbling. 

“That’s Bob,” Rick says. “She takes him everywhere. Can’t sleep without him. She makes a fuss.”

“Ah, yeah, I caught the Bob somewhere in the babblin’,” he adds with Mirth.

“Yeah, she’s trying to talk more and more,” Rick says proudly.

Daryl nods with a tiny smile and looks down at the bear. “His leg’s missing.”

“I know,” Rick sighs in defeat. “I’ve searched everywhere. It’s just not there. And she doesn’t want a new one.”

“Reckon she ate it?” Daryl says and reaches out to tickle Judith’s side, making her squeal out a laugh, then hands her the teddy bear back.

Rick laughs. “You should get one of these,” he says out of the blue. 

“A kid?” Daryl snorts and shakes his head. “Don’t think I’d be good at it.”

“Judith seems to like you alright. She never let’s anyone take Bob from her. Not even me.”

“Yeah, that ain’t fer me,” he grunts and throws a rock at the lake, disturbing the placid water. 

“Maybe you haven’t met the right person to have one with,” Rick casually suggests. At that, Daryl gives the younger man a curios glance. He remembers Rick being a lot more straightforward than this. 

He’s realistic enough not to expect that after one night of sex, they’ll leave the past behind and get back together to live happily ever after. Things don’t work that way. But Rick seems to want to avoid the subject altogether.

“I didn’t ask ya yesterday if ya got yer dream of bein’ a cop come true,” he changes the subject.

“I did,” Rick nods solemnly, not meeting his gaze.

“S’ great,” he says. “Ya off today?”

“I’ve been off for a while,” Rick mutters, still refusing to meet his gaze.

“Why?”

“I had some problems,” the younger man says curtly and reaches behind him to fetch the bag filled with food he brought. “Hungry?”

He’s not hungry, but he senses Rick’s need to drop the subject for the moment so he nods and takes the offered sandwich, keeping his eyes trained on the pleasing features as Rick searches for napkins in the bottom of his bag. There’s more pain hidden there than he’s taken into account.

As they eat, they chat about Carl and about Merle once again. Rick tells him about Michonne, who moved off to Atlanta to become a lawyer, and about Carol’s husband’s passing and the happy life her and her daughter lead now, and about anything the younger man can think of to distract him from the job issue. 

When they’re full, they take Judith to the shore and Daryl holds her so she can feel the warm water with her tiny feet. Rick watches them as they play and collect stones together. 

They go back to their blanket after that and while Rick dries Judith’s feet with a soft towel and puts on her socks and shoes, Daryl brings back the subject for he cannot let it go.

“So ya gon’ tell me why yer no longer a cop?” 

Rick stays quiet for a moment then sighs. “I had some problems.”

“Ya said that,” he points out.

Rick takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before speaking. “I guess when you start hallucinating you’re no longer fit to be a cop.”

He frowns. “Hallucinatin’?”

Rick nods, giving him a brief glance before shifting his eyes back to his daughter sitting between his folded legs, and speaks softly. “I saw Lori…for a while.”

Daryl keeps quiet, giving the younger man time to elaborate.

Rick looks back up at him, longer this time. “I had a break down at the station the first time I saw her,” he sniffs and his eyes become bright with tears. “Waved my gun around and started yelling at her. After that, I was given some time off to get my head straight. I got therapy. Even had Hershel teaching me about gardening and started my own garden in the backyard,” he laughs weakly, sniffing again. “And I did,” Rick nods. “I got my head straight and went back to work. I was doing okay for the most part...then everything went to hell.” 

Daryl reaches out to give Rick’s forearm a supportive squeeze. “Ya okay?”

Rick nods and caresses his daughter’s hair with his hand. “Like I said, I was doing well for a while. I wasn’t seeing Lori anymore or getting phone calls—I also got a few fake phone calls from her,” Rick explains at Daryl’s confused expression. “One day, we got called over to Tyreese’ house—remember him?” At his nod, Rick continues. “His girlfriend had been murdered. And he punched me…twice…” he finishes in a small voice.

“And?”

Rick looks up guiltily. “I beat him up.”

“Ya beat up Tyreese?” Daryl says with mirth, intent on lighting the mood. “That huge sum’abitch?”

The former cop sighs, unable to hide the tiny smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips. “He wasn’t fighting back much.”

Daryl nods. “If it makes ya feel any better, sounds ta me like he wanted ya ta beat ‘im.”

“Yeah, he told me the same when we got together to talk it off. Said he wanted to numb the pain inside,” Rick replies in a lighter tone.

“Makes sense.”

“I still got discharged,” the younger man says with a shrug.

“M’sorry, man,” Daryl huffs and pats Rick’s thigh gently, feeling remorseful for not being around during such a difficult time. 

Rick nods absentmindedly, like he doesn’t care anymore, then cocks his head toward him and flashes him the sweetest smile Daryl has ever seen. “I’m so glad you stopped by.”

“Me too,” he says and isn’t even surprised at how true those words sound. “M’ glad ta be here.”

Their gazes stay locked for a few seconds, before they smile and look away bashfully. He wants to kiss Rick so badly.

“So what happened with Tyreese’ girlfriend?” he says to distract himself. “Ya found tha killer?”

“Shane did,” Rick replies. “An old boyfriend of hers.”

The hunter shakes his head. “That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“So ya still hang out with that douche bag, huh?”

“Shane?” Rick sighs and pauses, uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Yeah— Hey, what’re you doing, sweetheart? That’s Daryl’s,” he scolds his daughter softly when she opens Daryl’s pack and puts her stuffed bear inside then closes it.

“Let her. Don’t mind,” he shrugs. Rick smiles his thanks. “Rick,” he says after taking an encouraging breath.

“Yeah?”

“I wanna tell ya why I left, why I didn’t come back. It wasn’t just ‘bout Merle,” he confesses.

Rick’s interest is peaked immediately and he asks warily. “Why then?”

“The day Merle died, yer dad went ta see me… to talk,” Daryl says and takes an encouraging breath, willing himself to continue; to let it all out. 

“What did he say?” Rick asks; tone heavy with dread. 

“He told me ta stay away from ya,” he sighs, playing with his lighter. “Told me I wasn’t good enough fer ya.”

“You told him he was wrong, didn’t you?” Rick asks through a pained sigh. 

Daryl bites his bottom lip and shrugs. “I tried tellin’ him I’d do anythin’ ta make ya happy. He told me that if I truly cared ‘bout ya… I’d let ya go. Let ya have tha life ya deserved with someone worthy a’ ya.” 

“Daryl?” Rick searches his eyes when he doesn’t continue, giving him an incredulous look. “That can’t be why you left.”

“It can,” he nods solemnly. “Yer dad knew exactly where ta hit. Said he knew ‘bout ma’ ol’ man. Knew he’d been a violent drunk who’d beat me an’ Merle’s asses. Told me I was bound ta become like ‘im and he wouldn’t h’ve his son be with someone who could make yer life miserable— someone like me,” Daryl says in a self-deprecating manner.

“That’s _bullshit_ , Daryl,” Rick huffs angrily; eyes locked with his. “You knew that wasn’t true. Why did you listen to him? It wasn’t his decision, anyway. It was mine.” 

“Thought ‘bout it more than once, ya know? Even before yer dad told me, that I’d end up being like ‘im. I was an asshole when drunk already, so I couldn’t rule it out. That night, I stole a bottle a’ whiskey an’ drank most a’ it. I was pissed at everythin an’ everybody…” he sighs heavily. “The rest ya already know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Rick says after a tense pause.

“’Cuz I knew ya’d’ve made me stay. And after killin' Merle, I had ta leave. There was nothin’ left fer me ‘ere.”

Rick gives him a horrified look. “You didn’t kill Merle,” he tries to reassure him. Daryl shakes his head.

“Made it easy fer ‘em cops. Gave ‘em a reason.”

“No, Daryl,” Rick says firmly, reaching out to delicately brush bangs away from his eyes to look at him with intent. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“How come I feel it is?” 

A wrecked sob escapes Rick’s lips at those words and he leans closer to wrap him in a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, Daryl.”

Daryl returns the hug when it’s clear Rick won’t move away anytime soon. He inhales deeply and closes his eyes, letting the man’s familiar scent comfort him. “M’ sorry too.”

Around five, Rick says he needs to go. Daryl doesn’t want him to, but helps him load his stuff back on his car all the same. 

After getting Judith secured on her chair, Rick turns to him. “Could you let me know before you leave? I'd like to say goodbye this time.” 

“Yeah…’bout that,” he says and Rick gives him a curious look. “Dale? Turns out he _was_ sellin’…Was,” he gruffs. “Fell right inta yer trap, Grimes.”

Rick laughs guiltily. “I’m sorry, I just—so you’re staying?”

“For a while,” Daryl nods and nips on his lower lip. 

“That’s…” Rick hesitates; smile faltering as he looks down. “That’s great, Daryl,” he says and looks up at him with an honest smile.

“Ya don’ seem too happy ‘bout it,” he says cautiously, noticing the slight change in demeanor in the younger man.

“I’m happy,” Rick nods then looks toward the lake briefly before meeting his gaze again. “It’s just— a lot to take in.”

“We got time ta get used ta it,” Daryl says with confidence, and guided by the same uncontrollable pull from the night before, he moves closer to Rick, intent on kissing the inviting lips again.

“I can’t—” Rick whispers before their lips make contact.

“Why?” he mutters with his eyes closed, resting his forehead against Rick’s; disappointment marring his tone.

“I just—I can’t,” the younger man says simply, taking a step back and closer to his car while giving him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Daryl…but last night was mistake. It can’t happen again.”

With that, Rick gets into his car and drives away. And it stings of course, but he understands. Rick needs time and Daryl will give him all the time he needs. They both need to figure things out. 

He goes back to the motel in desperate need of a cigarette. When he can’t find his lighter in his jacket, he searches for it in his backpack. He doesn’t find the lighter, but he does find Judith’s teddy bear instead— the same teddy bear Lil’ Judith can’t sleep without.

“Shit.”

Building up courage out thin air, he hops on his bike, back-pack on his back, and heads of to Dale’s—and soon to be his— garage to ask for Rick’s address. It’s fairly close and it takes him less than ten minutes to get there. 

It’s a homely looking, little white house. The lights are on and Rick’s car is parked on the front, so he turns off the engine and makes his way up the steps to the house, smiling as he takes a look about the well kept porch. There’re colorful flowers and assorted herbs in pots here and there, giving the small place a lively, welcoming appearance. 

Hershel’s classes have paid off, as he can see.

Daryl is about to knock on the door when an angry, male voice coming from inside freezes his hand midway. 

He looks through the door window and sees Rick come out of one of the rooms in the back and enter the living room, holding a crying Judith in his arms, unsuccessfully trying to calm her down. He’s followed by a man who looks a lot like an older version of Shane Walsh; the owner of said angry voice. 

And it clicks. This is the reason why Rick rejected his advances. 

Rick is with Shane.

Stepping away from the door, Daryl fishes out the teddy bear from his pack and sits it on door mat then knocks two times and leaves as quickly as he can. Judith will need Bob to fall sleep after all.


	4. An Ache Deep Within

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long wait. Hope you haven't given up on this story yet and that you enjoy this update. Thank you all for the support!! 
> 
>  
> 
> I apologize for the mistakes. They're all mine.

With a guilty conscience, Rick goes home. 

The house is empty. Shane doesn’t come home for at least half an hour more so he has some time to put the chaos in his head somewhat in order while fixing Judith a bottle.

Leaving Daryl like that after reluctantly refusing that craved for kiss without giving the man an explanation rips him apart. The last thing he wants is to play games with Daryl, but he won’t be surprised if the hunter thinks he is. 

From the moment Daryl said he was just passing by and would be leaving King County soon, a sense of urgency rose inside Rick to make the man stay at all cost. The mere idea of losing his first love all over again with just an awkward meeting at the grocery store to compensate two decades of waiting and yearning was inconceivable, so when Daryl mentioned his wish to buy a garage, Dale’s garage sort of popped up on his mind and he went for it. 

But now that he’s come down from his reminiscence cloud and has had some time to reflect on his situation, he has no idea what to do. The hunter’s sudden return has turned his small world completely upside down. 

There’s also a very good chance he still loves the man as fiercely as he did back then, for the sentiment never really went away, it just stayed dormant while anger and resentment became his way of coping. But once Daryl confessed the real reason of his leave and prolonged absence, any resentment Rick had been holding onto dripped away.

And to top it all, he’s lied to Shane. He’s never lied to him before. What makes it worse is that Rick is glaringly aware that Shane knows he’s lying. 

When Judith’s bottle is ready, he picks her up from her playpen and makes his way toward the living room to feed her there while he watches the news in a low volume. She fidgeted more than usual, but she’s always taken meal time very seriously, so she’s now sitting beside him, supported into a sitting position by numerous cushions while contentedly drinking her formula. 

When Shane arrives, they both look toward the door when it opens.

“How was work?” Rick greets his partner. Shane doesn’t answer or greets him with the usual, and rather possessive, kiss. He just tosses his keys on the key bowl by the door, struts toward them to kiss Judith’s head and makes his way toward their bedroom without even a glance his way. 

Rick’s stomach tightens uncomfortably. He knows. 

Sighing, Rick takes the now empty bottle from Judith’s grasp and leaves it on the coffee table then turns the TV off.

When he briefly reappears from their bedroom on his way to the kitchen, Shane has changed his uniform to cargo pants and a black t-shirt that hugs his muscled upper body nicely, a sight Rick would’ve appreciated better if his treacherous mind didn’t make the immediate comparison to Daryl’s even broader shoulders.

Shaking away Daryl from his thoughts, he sits up straight and takes a deep, calming breath. 

Judith starts fidgeting in her seat so Rick hands her one of the red, plastic cups she loves to play with so much. She only shows interest in it for a second before throwing it on the floor, renewing her fidgeting. 

“Shane, we need to talk,” he says firmly when Shane returns to the living room holding a beer in his hands. 

The man sits on the chair across from Rick and props his feet on the coffee table before taking a sip from his beer. “Is it about Dixon?” Shane lets out casually after he swallows the bitter liquid, “the one you really went out with yesterday.” It’s not a question. And the man addresses him with disdain as he speaks next. “I asked around—no one saw Michonne.” 

Rick holds the dark gaze as steadily as he can before dropping his chin and nodding. “I didn’t want to upset you,” he says with honesty. “And I’m sorry I lied to you.”

Shane scoffs and shakes his head. “That all you gonna say?” 

Narrowing his eyes while keeping an arm out to keep Judith from falling off the couch with her fidgeting, Rick tilts his head but otherwise keeps silent.

The other man chuckles and takes a sip from his beer, then looks at him; lips pressed together for a moment before replying. “You never lie, Rick. So I’m thinking there’s a good reason for you to feel like you had to. And I want details.” 

Rick feels his stomach constrict at what Shane is asking for. Clearing his throat, he starts speaking. “I ran into him at the grocery store. I didn’t know he was back until then. We had a lot to catch up with, so we got t’gether to talk.”

“Just talk, huh? And you couldn’t tell me that because…?” Shane pauses and looks at him with a raised eyebrow. “C’mon, Rick. I know you. There’s gotta be a reason why you didn’t want to have sex last night. So I’m gonna ask you this once and I want the truth,” he presses, and after a pause, he plants his feet on the floor and leans closer. “Did you two fuck?”

Rick covers Judith’s ears while glaring at his partner. It’s not like she understands the word but that doesn’t mean Shane should be saying it in front of her. 

“Watch your mouth around her,” he hisses. 

Shane is unapologetic and presses for an answer. “Don’t change the subject.”

Closing his eyes and taking a deep, encouraging breath, he nods. “Yes.”

After a long, loaded pause, Shane snickers. “So let me see if I understand this,” the man says with disdain. “That redneck abandons you without so much as a goodbye note, makes a mess out of you that _I_ had to deal with, doesn’t call or write for twenty years, and when he finally decides to come back, you eagerly give yourself to him?”

Pursing his lips into a thin line, he glares at Shane. “Well, he had his reasons.”

“Look at you defending him already,” Shane mocks with a fake grin then whispers the rest for Judy’s sake. “Was the fuck that good?”

“It was a mistake,” Rick admits, but if he’s honest with himself, he can’t bring himself to regret it. 

“I bet you weren’t thinking that when it was happening,” Shane says; voice loaded with sarcasm. “In fact, I bet you enjoyed every second of it. Or are you gonna deny it?”

Unwilling to take Shane’s shaming any longer, he hisses. “I _know_ I screwed up, Shane. And I apologize, but you have no right to judge me.”

The younger man leans back on his seat after that, giving him a dark look. The grin erased from his face. “Ya gonna throw _that_ in my face to get out of this? After everything I’ve done for you and Carl?”

“That’s not what I me—” Rick tries, but gets interrupted.

“You wouldn’t have lasted a second without me, Rick! Your little meltdown at the station was proof enough. _I_ saved this family!” the lawman says hotly. 

“That’s enough, Shane,” Rick sighs, reluctant to hear once again how _weak_ and _unstable_ , and what a _terrible_ father he is. 

“No, Rick!” Shane snaps and stands up to look down on him as he huffs the rest while pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You fucked up. Own up to it like a man. _I_ did.”

At that outburst, Judith whimpers become louder, so Rick takes her in his arms and starts rubbing her back soothingly. It doesn’t work and she starts struggling in his arms.

Shane glares at him for agonizing long seconds before nodding toward Judith. “See what she wants,” he says dismissively and brings his beer bottle to his lips.

Rick stands up and does as he’s told, not wanting to make a bad situation worse with his daughter in the room. 

Just as he’s about to enter Judith’s bedroom to see if she needs a change, Shane stops him. “Rick,” he says threateningly. “This isn’t over.”

He nods silently and steps inside the pink-walled room, closing the door behind him when she starts crying. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart,” Rick coos after checking her dry diaper. Gently, he picks her up from her dresser and starts rocking her from side to side. She complains and continues to cry. “What’s wrong, Judy?”

She looks at him with a pout then looks down at her crib as if searching for something.

“Oh, Bob,” he realizes with a sigh, panicking for a moment as he looks about the room to find the bear missing. He caresses Judith’s soft curls lovingly after setting her on her crib. “Be right back.”

“Why is she still crying?” Shane asks when Rick steps back into the living room and Judith’s cries become louder.

“She wants Bob,” he replies, going for Judith’s bag sitting on the chair closest to the door. 

“Did you take Judith with you when you met him again today?” Shane realizes way too easily. 

Rick doesn’t answer; he just drops his chin and takes in a deep breath to calm himself.

“Find the damn bear,” Shane huffs and goes to see their upset daughter, buying Rick some time. He desperately searches in the bag for the bear, but it’s not there either.

“Damn it!” he hisses, dropping the bag on the chair then runs his frantic hands through his curls, pulling at them slightly. He’s about to freak out. Without the bear, Judith won’t sleep until she passes out from exhaustion, after _hours_ of crying. 

He’s really fucked up this time. 

“You find it?” Shane asks, walking into the living room with Judith in his arms, trying to get her to calm down, but she’s not having it and Shane is beyond angry.

“No,” he sighs. 

“You lost the damn bear?” Shane huffs loudly, making Judith cry harder. Rick holds out his arms to take her then walks toward their bedroom to see if the bear is there for some miraculous reason. Shane follows. “Do you do have any idea what you did, Rick?”

“Yes, I know,” Rick huffs distractedly as he searches for the missing bear with his eyes while rubbing soothing circles on Judith’s back. 

“This wouldn’t have happened if you’d kept yer head where you’re supposed to,” Shane taunts as he follows Rick back into the living room. “How fucking hard can it be to keep track of a stupid stuffed toy?”

He doesn’t answer for he’s desperately trying to remember when he saw Bob last, plus he’s used to Shane’s belittling. Then the image of Judith putting Bob inside Daryl’s pack comes back in a flash, merely seconds before there’re two light knocks on the door. Judith is still crying, and Shane is still yelling, so only Rick hears them. 

_Daryl_.

“I’ll go check the car. It’s probably there,” he informs, putting on a calm voice.

Shane just scoffs and shakes his head. “It better be.”

The threat in Shane’s tone is not lost on Rick, but he ignores it for now, carefully setting his upset daughter inside her playpen. Shane’s gone off to the kitchen to open a second beer so he hurries out the door and closes it behind him. 

Letting out a long sigh of relief Rick smiles and squats down in front of Bob who’s innocently sitting on the welcome mat. He picks it up and hurries down the front steps in hopes to spot the hunter’s retreating form, but the street is empty and silent except for the low rumble of Daryl’s bike getting quieter as the distance between them grows. 

Slightly disappointed, Rick looks down at the bear and smiles again. “Thanks, Daryl.”

When the Bob drama is over and Judith is peacefully playing in her playpen, he tries to make dinner with Shane breathing down his neck. 

“Where’s Carl? Do you even know where your kid is or you lost track of him as well?”

“He’s at Enid’s. He’ll be back by eight,” he replies unflappably, not wanting to give his partner the satisfaction to see him affected by the taunt.

“Good on you,” Shane says sarcastically. “Now I want you to promise you will never see that redneck again.”

Rick’s stomach twists with anger at Shane’s tone. The man sounds so sure he’ll nod his head and follow his order that he has to answer with a steady, “I’m not gonna do that.”

Shane gives him a dark look and speaks in a low tone. “You cheated on me, Rick. I’m not gonna let that—”

“You think I’m an idiot?” he interrupts, turning on his spot by the stove to face his partner. Shane throws him a questioning look. “Andrea,” he says simply.

“What about her?”

Rick puffs and turns back to face the stove. “Believe it or not, Shane, I’m not as naïve to think you’d be a faithful partner when you couldn’t even be a faithful friend,” he says with spite.

“It don’t mean a thing,” the younger man admits. “Andrea and I are just friends.”

“I don’t care, Shane,” Rick sighs. “What you do in your free time is none of my business.”

“So I should just let this slide?” the man asks with a raised eyebrow.

Rick looks over his shoulder to glance at Shane. “You do what you want, just don’t be a hypocrite and play Mr. Moral Authority.”

“This is different than what I have with Andrea,” Shane argues.

“No, it’s not,” he says curtly, stirring the pot with more energy than necessary. 

“Do you have feelings for Dixon?” At that, Rick hesitates. Shane moves closer to him from behind to whisper against his ear. “Then it’s different.” 

“Well, I already apologized,” he tries weakly. “What else do you want?”

“I already said what I want.”

“You can’t ask me not to see him again,” Rick grumbles, trying to keep his anger under control. 

“What if I leave?” Shane ponders, wrapping his arms around Rick’s waist loosely. “Maybe that’ll show you just how serious I am.”

Rick’s stomach twists at that threat. Turning on Shane’s embrace, he locks gazes with the man and shakes his head. “Please.”

 

Two days after his argument with Shane, Rick goes to see Daryl. According to what he’s heard around town, he should be working at the garage already, so he heads there with a heavy heart and a knot in his throat. 

“Hey,” he greets Glenn with a pat on the shoulder. “New boss, huh?” he nods toward Daryl who’s working under an old Toyota. “Gotten on your nerves already?”

The younger man huffs out a laugh and lifts his eyebrows. “A warning would’ve been nice,” Glenn jokes.

“I heard that!” Comes the grunted reply from under the car.

Rick laughs and moves closer to stand beside Daryl’s legs. “Working already?” 

“Gotta keep this place goin’,” says the older man as he slides out of the car to give him a nod in greet. “Ya okay?”

He nods. “And Dale?”

“Packin’ stuff at the back.”

“Thank you for returning Bob,” he says; eyes following Daryl as the man stands. “Judith appreciated it.” 

“Was no problem,” Daryl shrugs. They look at each other for a few seconds before Rick looks away uncomfortable.

“How did you get my address?” 

“Came here an’ asked Dale fer it. Too bad the ol’ man held me off for a bit with business stuff. Should’a gotten there sooner,” Daryl laments as he wipes his greasy fingers with a dirty rag. “Saw her cryin’.”

“She didn’t cry for too long,” Rick reassures with a tiny smile.

“So you and Shane, huh?” Daryl says casually. At that, Rick’s smile falters and he ducks his head before nodding. “Heard ‘im yellin’ last night,” the hunter adds with concern. “Everythin’ okay?”

Rick shakes his head slightly. “He knows...’bout us.”

“Hey, ya said it. T’was a mistake. No reason ta make a deal a’ it,” Daryl says with a shrug, trying to sound unbothered, but Rick knows better. 

“I’m sorry for giving you false hope. I wasn’t thinking—”

“Hey, ya don’t gotta apologize,” the archer interjects, playing with the rag in his hands. “Ya don’t owe me n’thin’. I’m the one who left.”

“Still, I should’ve told you about Shane that first day,” Rick gives the archer an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Daryl.”

“Don’t beat yerself up,” Daryl reassures. “Ain’t like ya had much time ta process things.”

“I still screwed up,” he breathes out.

“Hey,” Daryl says and gestures to the two of them with his hand. “We can be friends.”

Rick shakes his head slowly. “I don’t think I can be your friend, Daryl,” he painfully admits.

“Then I’ll leave if that makes things easier on you,” Daryl suggests. “Was my original plan after all.” 

“Don’t do that for me,” he pleads then pauses to give the older man a steady look. “And you’re wrong. You leaving won’t make anything better.” 

“Then what ya sayin’, Rick’?” Daryl asks with a huff, dropping the rag on the floor. “What d’ya want?”

“Doesn’t matter what I want,” he says, shaking his head. “I can’t see you anymore. That’s what I came to tell you.”

Daryl huffs and nips on his bottom lip for a moment as he takes in what he just said. 

“Ya even love Shane?”

The question comes abruptly, but Rick has been thinking about the answer over and over for the past days, and he already knows the answer. He’s known it for a while.

After a long sigh, he slowly shakes his head.

“Then leave him,” Daryl blurts, holding nothing back this time. 

Rick hangs his head and rests his hands on his hips. “It’s not that simple, Daryl.”

“Is it ‘cuz ya ain’t workin’?” the archer speculates, “cuz if it is, I’m more than happy ta—”

“It’s not that,” he smiles halfheartedly. _If only it were that_. 

“So ya just gonna let ‘im dictate yer life like that?” Daryl says. He’s angry now. “Ya ain’t happy with that douche bag. That much is clear. Just leave his ass,” he shrugs, as if it were easy. It isn’t.

“I can’t leave him,” Rick says through a pained sigh, rubbing his hand on his right temple to ease some tension. “I’ll lose Judith if I do,”

Daryl furrows his brow in confusion. “Tha hell would ya lose her?”

“She’s not mine, Daryl,” he confesses with a quivering voice. And it hurts to even say it, like the knife permanently stabbed in his heart is being twisted around. He lives in constant fear because of it. Shane could take Judith away from him at any moment and there’d be nothing he could do about it. “I love her. She’s my daughter, but she isn’t mine,” Rick forces out through the tightness in his chest, choking on the last part. “She Shane’s.”

“Ya mean Lori an’…” Daryl trails off.

Rick nods; eyes brimming with tears. “I’m not proud of it and I can’t even begin to explain how or why we ended together, but Shane was there for us after Lori— me and Carl. I wasn’t at my best as you know. He was there for Carl when I couldn’t. And he helped me through it,” he says that part weakly, for the last thing Shane is doing lately is helping him. Taking a deep breath, he continues. “If I leave him, I’ll lose my daughter. And I can’t—” Rick’s voice falters and tears run down his cheeks. “I _can’t_ lose Judith.”

“C’mere,” Daryl huffs and pulls Rick against his chest by the man’s jacket, wrapping strong arms around him. And Rick falls apart.


	5. Exposed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update! Yay! Finally. Hope you guys enjoy :D
> 
> Thank you all for the comments and kudos!! <3
> 
> I apolgize for the mistakes. They're all mine.

Daryl ushers Rick outside through the back for some air. They take seats on stacks of broken tires. Although the crying has diminished to merely sniffs, Rick still seems awfully distraught, like it’s the very first time he’s let himself breakdown over the subject, so Daryl rubs the tense back in slow soothing circles until the tension under his palm lessens. 

“Wanna talk about it?” he then asks.

Rick takes a large amount of air and lets it out in a stuttering breath. “I’m not good at sharing my feelings,” he says, sounding slightly congested due to the crying. “Lori hated that.”

“Ya don’t gotta say anythin’,” Daryl soothes. “It don’t bother me. Ain’t much of a talker myself.”

“I know.” The corner of Rick’s mouth curls up in a half smile. He sniffs before he begins talking. “Shane told me they got together while I was in the coma—”

“What?” Daryl cuts in. He’s shocked to say the least, and maybe slightly horrified. Yes, definitely horrified. 

Rick looks at him with confusion for a moment, as if he should know. He probably should. The confusion seeps away and realization dawns on those pretty features. 

“Oh, right, you don’t know. I got shot during a shift,” Rick explains briefly. “I was in a coma for three weeks as a result.”

“Fuck, ya kiddin’ me?” Daryl asks in disbelief. 

“Yeah, my life’s been pretty _interesting_ lately,” Rick chuckles in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. 

“Wouldn’t call it interestin’,” he gruffs. 

Rick’s smile falters and he nods. “I know.”

Daryl stares at the younger man while nibbling on his lower lip, trying to figure out why Rick of all people had to go through so much shit. As he does so, he tries his best to contain his anger at the world… _and himself_. 

“Anyway…They were told there was a chance I might never wake up,” Rick continues. “They sought comfort in each other. I get it. I just wish Lori had told me herself,” he finishes sullenly.

The thought of Rick lying in a hospital bed, motionless, pale and with no hope of ever waking up invades his mind briefly. “So how’d ya find out Judith ain’t yers,” he says to distract himself, forcing the unsettling thought away. 

“Shane got a test done a couple of weeks after she was born,” Rick says; a small trace of detachment in his voice. “He showed me the papers along with his confession.”

Daryl frowns. “Ya mean Lori was already—?” 

“Yeah,” Rick nods. “Shane said she meant to tell me…but she ran out of time, I guess,” he says drearily.

“Shit, man,” he huffs shaking his head. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, well…” Rick says and furtively brushes away the remaining tears in his eyelashes as he stands up then fixes Daryl with a grimace. “I have to go.”

“Ya gon’ do as he says?” he asks, fishing out a beat up smoke from the front pocked of his shirt. He lights it, glancing up at Rick through his bangs.

Rick huffs and hangs his head. “I don’t have a choice. I can’t risk losing Judy.”

“This is one small town,” he grunts, gesturing around them with the hand holding his now lit cigarette. “We gon’ cross paths sooner than later. Are we s’possed ta ignore each other?”

“We can say hi.”

Daryl holds out his hand. “Hi.” 

Rick smiles sadly but takes it, looking at him with intent. There’re new tears pooling in those cobalt blues and Daryl can see his own pain mirrored in them. Seeing Rick and not being able to _be_ with him will probably destroy him faster than being geographically apart ever did; eating away at him until there’s nothing left. 

He holds the warm hand tight and tries to convey all his affection toward the younger man through his gaze as it steadily holds Rick’s. _Shit_. They haven’t parted yet and he can already feel that familiar emptiness in his chest; the same one that only recently got refilled and he can feel his heart closing off once again. All those dreams and hopes they shared under the stars many years ago began crumbling down one by one: The road trips around the south they’d take in his bike; the big white house in the middle of a huge farm they’d buy and live together in, the cats and dogs they’d adopt there. He was stupid to think he had another shot at having that life with Rick. He was given one and blew it. He doesn’t deserve a second one.

After a tight, soul shattering goodbye hug, Rick leaves and he kicks out his anger on the rusty car abandoned behind his garage. There’re tears in his eyes when he wears out and Glenn is standing there by the door, looking at him with worry.

“Ain’t nothin’,” he gruffs out of breath and goes back to work. 

He can’t sleep that night so he grabs his smokes, hops on his bike and rides toward the cemetery. 

“Hey, brother,” Daryl says, sitting down cross-legged in front of Merle’s grave then takes two smokes out of his pack. “Want one?” he offers and lights both at once. He keeps one between his lips, and the other, he settles on top of the gravestone. 

The crickets singing around him bring back memories of campsites around crackling fires with his brother.

“We got sum’ good times back then,” he says, taking a drag, “ya know, once we got away from the ol’ man.”

Crickets fill the silence after those words.

“’member when I picked up the courage ta tell ya ‘bout Rick?” Daryl asks in a low rumble. “Thought ya’d beat me up an' then beat up Rick,” he sighs. “Turned out ya got it figured out way b’fore I even dared ta admit it ta myself.”

An owl hoots in the distance and a cold breeze makes him wrap his jacket tighter around himself. 

“Ya used ya mock me fer how balls deep I was into ‘im,” Daryl recalls with mirth. “Ya were right. Never loved anyone like I loved ‘im,” he confesses to the night.

He takes a long drag of smoke and lets it out through his nose. The cigarette on top of Merle’s grave is already halfway consumed.

“Would ya believe me if I told ya I love ‘im just as much now?”

Silence. 

“’Cuz I do,” he answers. “Maybe more than I did back then.”

Inhaling the last bout of smoke, he stubs his cigarette down on the underside of his shoe. 

“I fucked up, Merle,” he huffs, kicking the dirt with his heel. “Was s’possed to just drop by shortly an’ keep goin’ afterward. Wasn’t s’possed ta see ‘im again an’ fall in love with ‘im all over again.”

 _Boy, yer one sorry fucker, lil’ bro. Yer so smitten ya can’t see nuthin' beyond yer own dick_ , he can almost hear Merle laughing at him. He probably is, if there’s any life after.

“I lost ‘im to that douche bag, Shane,” he laments pathetically. “An’ now I’m stuck ‘ere havin’ ta see ‘em together.”

That’s a lie. He can leave whenever he wants. 

The cigarette on top of Merle’s grave is completely consumed by now. The wind is blowing stronger.

“Should I leave, Merle?” he asks and is answered by silence. 

 

The next day, Maggie show’s up at the garage around six to pick up Glenn and an unknowing Daryl for dinner at the Greens. He’s calmed down by now and he and Glenn were joking back and forth before she arrives—Glenn’s way of taking his mind off Rick.

“Hey,” she drawls, hooking an arm around Glenn’s neck and they kiss softly. Then she turns to him. “I’ve come to kidnap you. Dinner at my dad’s. You can’t escape it.”

Daryl eyes her through narrowed eyes. “Ya sure ya wanna bring a dirty redneck with no manners over dinner?”

“Dude, do as she says,” Glenn leans closer to tease him in a hushed tone. “She has a shotgun _and_ she knows how to use it.”

He snorts. 

“That’s right,” Maggie says, smiling toothily. “So let’s go.”

 

It’s a huge surprise when he gets there and there’s people actually waiting for him.

Just as Maggie told him, Hershel’s happy to see him back and well, and so is Patricia who always used to praise his hunting skills when he brought her back half of his hunts; and Otis, his many times hunting partner when Merle was too high to even get out of bed, along with Carol who he always had a special connection with and her daughter who wasted no time in warming up to him; all welcome him with a warmness that he’s not used to be on the receiving end of. Even Beth, who doesn’t even know him, greets him with a tight, warm hug. 

He’s awkward at first, of course. He’s never been good at socializing or trusting people right away. But that don’t mean he’s shy, so once the initial awkwardness pass and they keep treating him like he’s the long lost member of their family they’ve been missing terribly, he lets go and actually enjoys himself a great deal.

They ask him about what he’s been up to, why he left in the first place and what took him so long to bring his ass back home, all in good nature, of course. And they all seem genuinely happy to have him back in town for good. And it dawns on him how blind he’d been to ignore all these people’s affection. 

And to think he was certain that no one but Rick gave a shit about him in this town. 

When he leaves, Carol walks him out to his bike and hugs him tight once again before he hops on it. The night is cool so she hugs her sweater tight around her thin frame.

“I’m so glad you’re back. We’ve all missed you.”

“Yeah, ’m still tryin’ ta grasp all that,” he says, vaguely gesturing toward the house behind them. Hershel’s house looks awfully alike to the one him and Rick dreamed of having, he notices sadly.

“People care about you, Daryl,” Carol tells him matter of fact. “Maybe it’s time to stop resisting it.”

“Guess so.”

“And Rick?” Carol gives him a keen look. 

“Can’t happen.”

“Why not?” She asks curiously then adds: “He’s not happy with Shane. And I _know_ he still cares about you.”

“Rick don’t wanna lose Judith,” he shrugs; hands on the pockets of his leather jacket.

“ _Lose_ her?” Carol looks at him with confusion. “Why would he lose her?”

“’Cuz she’s Shane’s,” he says before he can check himself. 

“No, she’s not,” she huffs. And the certainty in her tone gives him hope.

“What’d ya mean? How d’ya know?”

“Lori was my best friend. We told each other everything. If anything happened between her and Shane, it happened in Shane’s head. Who told you this? Shane?” Her tone as she says his name reveals how much she doesn’t like him.

“Rick told me. Says Shane told him right after Lori died,” Daryl says. He shouldn’t be sharing such personal matters about Rick, but if Carol is right, then he needs to get to the end of it. 

“Well, someone’s lying,” she says; arms tight across her chest. “Lori would’ve never done something like that to Rick. Shane tried, though,” she grits, “a couple of times while Rick was sleeping. But she didn’t let him. He got a well-deserved scratch one time he had _trouble_ accepting the rejection while drunk,” Carol says, proud of her friend.

Daryl nods slowly, worried about Rick after hearing those words. Shane sounds like one aggressive fucker. 

“So ya think he’s lyin’ ‘bout Judith?” he asks in a hope-ridden tone.

“I _know_ he is.” Carol stares at him with intent. “You need to talk to Rick.”

 

Daryl leaves after that and rides back to his garage. Now that Dale has officially moved out of the office, Daryl has turned it into his living quarters. 

_What time does Shane leave for work tomorrow?_ he texts, hoping Rick’s still awake. If there’s a chance Shane is lying and Judith is in fact Rick’s, he has to tell him.

Rick is awake and answers back right away.

_At nine… Why?_

_Gotta talk tell ya somethin’ important._

_Okay…_

He’s barely able to sleep for a couple hours before he’s back on his feet and pacing around his office/bedroom, impatient to see Rick. 

At 08:50, he rides toward Rick’s house. He parks at a safe distance and waits for Shane to leave the house. The second Shane’s car disappears around the corner by the end of the street, he jogs the distance toward Rick’s door, taking the front steps three at a time, and knocks fervently on it. 

“Ya ever got a test done?” he asks as soon as the door opens revealing a recently showered Rick; curls still damp.

“What?” 

“A Paternity test,” he elaborates, stepping inside Rick’s home and closing the door behind him. “Ya ever got one?”

“There—” Rick pauses as he mulls over the question. “There was no need after Shane showed me the results,” he says with uncertainty. Daryl stares at him and the man shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. “Why would there be?”

“’Cuz Carol said somethin’,” he replies then guiltily continues. “Thought she knew ‘bout Judith bein’ Shane’s, so I mentioned it ta her last night. Sorry, man.”

“It’s, fine…I just…never told anyone,” Rick admits softly then tilts his head and furrows his brows. “What did she say?”

“That Shane’s lyin’ ta ya ‘bout the whole thing,” he says hotly. “That him and Lori never happened.”

“What?” Rick’s frown deepens. “Why would he lie about that?” 

“Beats me,” Daryl shrugs. “Lori told Carol Shane pushed fer somethin’ to happen several times, but she stopped ‘im…even scratched ‘im once.” 

Rick looks like he’s going to be sick at hearing that. 

“Ya okay?”

“No,” the former lawman croaks; his nose twitching with contained anger. “What if he-?”

“Lori woulda told Carol,” he quickly reassures. 

Rick lets out a long breath then stares at him for long seconds, like he’s reevaluating his whole life. 

“So Judith… could be mine?” Rick asks hesitantly; a trace of hope in his tone. “I don’t wanna get my hopes up,” he admits, scratching his eyebrow. 

“Then don’t,” Daryl suggests. “Just get the test done an’ don’ hope fer nothin’. If she ain’t yers, ain’t nothin’ ya didn’ know already…and if she is…” he trails off.

“Yeah,” Rick nods slowly then smiles at him after a pause. “Want breakfast?”

* * *

The first thing Rick does after Daryl leaves is call the lab and get an appointment. The anticipation is killing him and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to pretend like nothing’s wrong for however long the results take.

After clearing the remains of his breakfast with Daryl off the table, he takes Judith to the living room to play with her, hiding his watch underneath one of her two red cups and slowly mixing them up for her to find it. She finds it at the first try and beams up at him. Rick smiles back and reaches over to caress her soft curls lovingly. No matter what the results are, blood or not, he’ll love her as much as he does now. He’s always seen her as his daughter and nothing’s going to change that.

When Shane comes home that afternoon, he attempts to give Rick his usual kiss, but Rick moves his face to the side so the kiss ends up in his cheek. 

“Did you eat?” he practically hisses and pulls away from the embrace. He wants to get the truth out of Shane, but not without the certainty of a result letter first. Only then he can start making accusations. 

“Oh, yeah, don’t worry ‘bout me, darlin’,” Shane grunts seductively, moving closer. “I’m hungry for something else, in fact.”

“I’m not in the mood,” Rick grunts, grabbing Shane’s hands and peeling them off his waist. He’ll play it cool, but that doesn’t mean he’ll give Shane what he wants. 

Shane sighs and rubs at his face. “Okay, Rick. Walk me through this. I thought we were done with the Dixon deal. What’s your problem now?”

“I’m just not in the mood, Shane,” he huffs, thinking about what Lori said to Carol and imagining Lori having to pry the man’s hands off her own waist as she angrily told him to stop his advances and Rick wonders why she never told him.

“I love you, Rick,” he says, gabbing Rick’s face gently. “You know that, right?” 

Again, he grabs Shane’s hands and pries them off him. “I’m _not_ in the mood,” he repeats in a low hiss.

Shane moves back and stares at him with frustration. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Look, I’m sorry ‘bout what I said. You wanna be friends with Daryl? Go ahead.”

Rick stares at him; his gut coiling with anger. “I got your permission now?” he asks; sarcasm dripping from every word.

Shane gives him a guilty look. “Hey, man, that’s not—I didn’t mean it that way.”

“What _did_ you mean, Shane?” Shane doesn’t know how to answer, so he doesn’t and Rick points an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t you ever use Judith again to get what you want from me. Ever.”

“You’re right, I won’t,” Shane huffs, letting his head hang with guilt. “I won’t.”

 

After that, Shane drags his tired body to bed; his mood killed as well. Rick goes out to the porch for some much needed air. 

A few minutes later, Carl joins him. 

“So your friend Daryl is back,” he says casually and sits down next to him on the bench. 

“Carl, I’m sorry…Did we wake you up?”

The teen shakes his head. “Wanna talk about it?”

Rick sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Not right now.”

His son nods and places a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Dad, whatever it is, you can count on me.”

“Thank you,” he smiles and brings Carl closer for a short hug. “Now go to bed. It’s school night.”

The week is filled with nerve-racking waiting. He has to wait two days to get their samples taken, plus five work days until the results are ready. And he has to wait half an hour for Daryl to be back from Atlanta where he went to buy some car part replacement. 

Daryl smiles warmly when he sees them. He’s waiting for him outside his garage with a waving Judith in his arms. The hunter’s smile drops abruptly when he notices his edgy demeanor. 

“Ya have it?”

Rick nods. 

Daryl kills the engine and hops off his bike. “Let’s go to ma’ office.”

In there, Daryl motions for Rick to sit on the couch. He stays standing and starts fidgeting nervously. “Ya gonna open it?” he prompts impatiently. 

“Already did.” Rick searches in the inside pocket of his coat and takes out the letter. 

Daryl studies his expression expectantly. “Well?”

He quietly hands the unfolded letter to Daryl who reads it carefully. Rick closes his eyes, holding Judith tighter.

 

At home, he gives Judith a bottle and sets her down to sleep. She’s out in only a few minutes with Bob firmly grasped in her tiny grip. 

“Night, sweetheart,” he says and flicking the light off, he goes out into the living room, locking the door shut. 

_Just in case_ , he tells himself.

Sitting on the couch facing the door, he waits for Shane to walk through it. It’s Friday, so he’ll probably come back later. Carl’s across the street at the Andersons. He’s staying there playing video games with a few other kids from their block. Hopefully, he’ll get this over with before Carl comes back.

Shane comes home sooner than he thought. He looks at him coldly. 

Immediately seeing his glare, Shane sighs and hangs his head. “I said I was sorry already.”

Rick doesn’t answer; he just stands up and walks up to the man to hand him the results.

“What’s this?”

“You lied to me,” he says. 

Shane’s brow furrows in confusion and he shortly looks down at the papers in his hands then up at him again. “Tha hell you on ‘bout, Rick?” he huffs and there’s a hint of trepidation in his tone. 

“That’s a DNA test,” Rick informs, taking the letter from Shane’s hands to put it in front of the man’s face since he refuses to read it. “Judith is _my_ daughter, Shane.” 

“You gone insane again, Ricky?” Shane chuckles derisively, completely ignoring the letter. 

“At least have the guts to admit it!” he huffs angrily— keeping his voice low for Judith’s sake— and steps closer to the bigger man. “You took advantage of my state after Lori’s death to plant that lie. I was so shattered I didn’t even question it! The hell you expected to accomplish with it, anyway?”

“I got you, didn’t I?” Shane admits with a head tilt. Rick looks at him in confusion. He doesn’t know if he’s being laughed at or not. 

“Is this ‘cuz of Lori?” He wonders. “Because you couldn’t have whatever life you thought you could build with her and my children and this is a close as you could get?”

Shane doesn’t answer. He only shakes his head and makes to walk past him toward Judith’s room, but Rick is quicker and stands between him and the door. 

“You’re _not_ going in there,” Rick growls dangerously. 

Shane glares at him; eyes dark with anger and fists tightly clenched. “This is bullshit, Rick!” He snaps finally. “I’m a better father to these kids than you’ll ever be! They need me.”

Rick tries to stay calm as he speaks in a firm tone. “You’ll never be their father. Not after this. I want you to leave. Tonight.”

Shane lets out a sardonic laugh at that. “And what ya gonna do without me, Rick? Everyone in town knows you’re insane. No one’s gonna hire you,” he huffs maliciously. 

“Thanks for your concern, but I think I’ll manage,” Rick scoffs then speaks in a low voice. “Now, please, take your shit and go.”

“So you can get with that redneck?” Shane asks and before Rick can realize what he’s doing, he pulls out his gun from his holster and aims it at his chest. “Not gonna happen, Rick.”

Rick eyes the gun in the man’s expert grip with shock while cold fear spreads to his heart. “What’re you doin’, Shane?” he warily asks, lifting his hands, palms toward Shane. “Lower the gun.”

“No way,” the man says, licking his lips and giving him a deranged look. 

“This is not you, Shane. You don’t wanna do this,” Rick tries reasoning with him, but only manages to anger Shane further.

“Don’t tell me what I want!” Shane growls low, gripping the weapon with both hands. “You think I’m just gonna let that trash redneck take what’s mine? _My_ family?”

“We're not yours, Shane,” he says, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. “You need to accept that.”

Shane shakes his head slowly. “If I can’t have you, then Dixon can’t either.”

“If you do this…they’ll take Judith and Carl from you,” he says, hoping to appeal to Shane’s common sense. It doesn’t work.

“No, they won’t. I’ll say you attacked me. I’ll say you put our daughter’s life in danger,” Shane threatens and Rick’s stomach twists with anger.

“And you think they’re gonna buy that bullshit?” he grits. 

Shane nods. “The entire station saw you acting like a lunatic, Rick. It’ll be easy. You’re lucky they didn’t lock you up that first time.”

Rick breathes in and out, trying his best to block out the truth behind those spiteful words. 

Suddenly, it becomes hard to breathe and he can feel his scars throbbing; he can almost feel the burning pain of that bullet tearing a hole through his flesh. 

“Shane, please,” he begs, thinking of Carl and Judith who he’ll never see again if Shane does pull the trigger. “Don’t do this.”

“Too late.”

It’s a mere fraction of a second that saves his life, from the moment Shane starts adding pressure on the trigger to when the door opens and Carl walks in on them. 

“Shane, don’t!” Carl screams with horror, causing Judith to start crying. The combination of both seem to break through Shane’s hazed mind and the man looks at him with shock at what he was about to do.

“Stay back, Carl,” Rick tells his son without straying his gaze from Shane or moving an inch. Any wrong move and this could be over.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” the man stutters as his eyes become more focused and he runs a shaky hand through his face while lowering the gun with the other. His eyes follow Carl when in spite Rick’s order the teen runs to his father. He gives a few steps back and away from them. Dark eyes land on Rick once more, now apologetic and almost pleading. “Rick—”

“Go,” he says curtly, keeping his son behind him. Shane drops his chin in shame and nods. 

With one final apologetic glance at both of them, he leaves the house. Only when Shane’s car drives away, does Rick let out the shaky breath he’d been holding. 

Carl hugs his middle tightly. “You okay?”

He nods shakily and firmly pries his son’s arms from around him. “Go check your sister while I call the station,” he instructs and when Carl is gone to Judith’s room, he quickly walks toward the door to close it, securing every lock with trembling hands and closing every curtain. After a quick trip to his bedroom to retrieve his stored gun from the bottom of his closet, he goes to the kitchen to call the station and tell them what happened.

* * *

Since Dale was one hell of a control freak and kept everything in its rightful place, there’s not much organizing to do at the garage, but he’s not in the mood to lie awake worrying and wondering how everything’s going with Shane and what the man’s reaction to being exposed is going to be, so he starts working on a Sedan due to be picked up in three days to keep his fidgeting hands, if not his mind, occupied. 

He offered Rick to be there with him but Rick refused. And he gets it. The man needs to deal with Shane on his own, but that don’t make him any less worried. At least Rick promised to call if anything goes wrong.

Around ten, there’s a knock on the door and Daryl frowns. 

“We’re closed!” he grunts. 

More knocking.

“Get tha fuck off an’ come back t’morrow!” he gruffs, gaze still fixed on the engine. 

In spite his angry words, Daryl hears the door open and close, followed by slow, heavy footsteps. He frowns, not recognizing the sound and lifts his head from the hood of the car to face the stranger and tell them to fuck off to their face.

His blood runs cold as he comes face to face with Shane and his gun. 

“You shouldn’t have come back,” Shane hisses and pulls the trigger.


	6. Making Up For The Lost Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update! This is the final chapter for this story, and although I struggled a lot with it, I still enjoyed writing it. Hope you guys enjoyed it too. Thank you for all the support in form of comments, kudos, hits, etc. You always keep me going. Love you all! <3 
> 
>  
> 
> Again, sorry for the mistakes.

The phone ringing startles Rick off the chair nearest to the door where he’s been sitting on— gun firmly clutched in his grip in case Shane dared to come back—waiting for the police officer that was supposed to arrive twenty minutes ago to take his statement. He hurries to the phone so Judith isn’t awoken by the sound. 

“Yes, hello?” he answers impatiently.

“ _Rick Grimes?_ ”

“Speaking.”

_“This is Officer Basset—”_

“Leon, hi. What the hell’s going on? I called about half an hour ago,” Rick grumbles. He’s too scared to care about sounding rude. He just needs them to get there already. His children’s safety is at stake here, as well as his own. 

And Daryl’s if his fears are proven right. 

Right after calling the station the first time, the possibility of Shane going after Daryl invaded Rick’s thoughts and he called them again to warn them. He’s been waiting on news and panicking ever since.

 _“We found him. He turned himself in,”_ Basset says and Rick sighs in relief.

“Where was he?” He asks and Basset takes enough time to answer for Rick’s imagination to run wild with images of Shane aiming his gun at Daryl and pulling the trigger. His chest tightens at the possibility.

 _“You were right. He was at Dale Horvath’s ex garage.”_

Rick’s stomach drops and his breath hitches in his throat. 

Leon continues. 

_“He shot Dixon.”_

And there it is.

Every sound becomes muffled by the thundering beating of in his chest. He barely catches what Basset tells him next for his arm loses strength and the phone drops from his ear. He does catch one thing: Harrison Memorial Hospital. 

After dropping off Carl and Judith at Carol’s, Rick drives full speed toward the hospital. 

His stomach is a mess of knots and if his hands weren’t gripping the steering wheel with force, they’d be shaking something fierce. 

“He’s gonna be fine. He’s fine,” Rick repeats out loud like a soothing mantra. It’s not working.

Once there, he rushes through the ER doors and toward Reception. 

“Dixon. Daryl Dixon,” he stammers out of breath. “Gunshot. He was brought in a few minutes ago.”

“Name?”

“Rick—Rick grimes. I’m his…his _friend_.” 

The elderly woman behind the counter barely looks at him as she searches Daryl’s name in the system and then without a word, points toward a spacious corridor to his right. 

There’re gurneys lined up against each wall; all occupied. Daryl isn’t in any of them, but there’s a police officer standing outside the door to one of the bedrooms. It’s Basset.

He walks toward him and gives him an expectant look. Basset just points to the bed at the end of the room. Officer Chambler is standing there, facing the bed’s occupant, but the curtain prevents him from seeing them. 

_She’s talking to him. He’s gotta be fine,_ Rick reassures himself as he walks the distance separating them with uncertain steps.

“—an’ that’s when ya guys got there. Ain’t nothin’ much more ta tell.”

 _Daryl_.

A wave of relief so powerful his knees almost give under him hits him at hearing Daryl’s voice and he hurries toward the other side of the curtain. Daryl is there, sitting on the bed. He looks a tad bit annoyed, but well overall. When he sees Rick, he smirks. “Some buddies ya got,”

Ignoring the tease, Rick moves closer to the hunter and places a hesitant hand on the older man’s knee as if to make sure he’s really there and alive. 

_He looks fine. He’s going to be fine._

“Anything else comes to mind, report it,” Officer Chambler tells Daryl and turns to Rick to give him a nod. “Rick.”

Rick nods back in greet. “Tara.”

“Nice to see you,” she says with a friendly smile then turns back to Daryl. “That’ll be all for now,” says the policewoman and leaves them with a tiny nod.

“Thank God you’re alright,” Rick’s finally able to say once they’re alone, and moves closer to the older man. His eyes then scan the bullet wound carefully. There’s dried blood trickled down Daryl’s left arm, but it’s not a worrying amount of blood and the flow seems to have stopped all together. 

Daryl follows his gaze, looking at his arm with disinterest. “Bullet went in an’ out. Don’t seem ta have hit bone. Can pro’ly leave t’night.” 

“That’s good,” he smiles and puts his hand on Daryl’s right shoulder, squeezing it gently. He then hesitates and withdraws his hand. “How’d it…happen?” 

“Shane came ta the garage an’ shot me,” Daryl says with a shrug. “Barely had time ta duck outta the way and jump ‘im. Took his gun an’ all. He kinda lost his nerve after that first shot so he didn’t fight back. Seemed outta it, mostly. Cops came soon enough. They were ‘round.” Daryl gestures the ‘around’ with his uninjured arm then sighs. “Thought Shane would tell ‘em I attacked ‘im, but he told ‘em the truth.” Daryl pauses and frowns as it dawns on him. “This all s‘cuz ya told ‘im ‘bout Judith, ain’t it?”

Rick nods, biting his bottom lip. “He pulled his gun on me too.”

“What?” Daryl’s angry now and he shifts on the bed like he wants to stand up and punch something. Rick plants his hand on Daryl’s shoulder again to calm him down. It works some, but he still looks like he’d rather be hunting Shane down than just sitting there.

“After I told him about Judith, I told him to leave,” Rick continued when prompted to elaborate. “He refused and aimed his gun at me. Carl got there just in time t’ see everythin’. Yelled at Shane and Judith started cryin’…so Shane put the gun away and left.”

“Shit, Rick.” Daryl shakes his head; hands in tight fists. “Where’re yer kids now?”

“At Carol’s…shit,” he curses. “She was awfully worried about you. I should let her know you’re okay.”

Daryl nods and he exits the room phone in hand.

In his rush inside, he walked past Basset without talking to him. He now walks up to his former partner and nods a greeting.

“Shane—”

“He's in custody,” Basset says then nudges his arm. “You alright?”

“I’m just—” Rick sighs and runs a hand through his stubble, “In shock, I guess. Never thought he’d be capable of doing somethin’ like that.”

“None of us did. Not even himself, from what I saw,” Basset says then nods. “He corroborated what you told us on the phone.”

Rick lets out a weak chuckle. “Is my word not enough?”

Basset gives him a confused look then sighs. “You were going through a rough time back then, Rick. I can’t even imagine what losing one’s wife must feel like. Hell, I don’t even wanna try. And yet you came through somehow. Your word is enough, Rick.” 

Rick never thought much of Leon Basset before- thought him careless and dumb. Guess he was wrong. 

His phone vibrates in his hand, interrupting their conversation. It’s Carol.

“I have to take this,” he says and gives his ex—partner a genuine smile. “Thank you, Leon.”

After informing Carol of Daryl’s condition and asking about his kids, Rick goes back inside. Basset takes his statement and he stays beside Daryl until he’s released. 

To his relief, Daryl is right. The x-rays confirm that the damage only superficial. The wounds are stitched and Daryl’s sent home with antibiotics and painkillers for treatment.

“I think it’d be better if you stay at my place for a few days…just until your arm’s better,” Rick suggests when he drives away from the hospital. “We’ll stop by the garage to collect what you need. How bout that?”

Daryl lets out a long sigh and shakes his head. “Ya don’t gotta do this, man. ’M fine ta stay at the garage. I got a bed an’ all.”

“That old couch is not a bed,” he scoffs then gives the hunter a pleading look, one Rick knows Daryl won’t be able to say no to. “Just…please, let me do this, Daryl.”

The older man chews on his bottom lip and shrugs. “Barely even hurts, but…whatever.” 

Rick smiles triumphantly. 

“What ‘bout yer kids?” Daryl asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Talked to Carol,” he tells him. “She told me they were already asleep so I asked her to let them stay for the night. Said Sophia was worried too. She sent you a hug.” He gives Daryl a curious glance. “I didn’t know you’d met her.”

“Went ta Hershel’s for dinner a few nights ago,” Daryl explains. “Carol was there with Sophia.”

“Really? That’s great.” Rick smiles brightly. “Hershel and his family missed you tons.”

“A’parently.” Daryl nips on his lower lip to hide a tiny smile.

 

“Why don’t you take a seat while I make some food? I bet you didn’t eat dinner,” Rick says once they’re home and takes off Daryl’s leather jacket from around his shoulders before the hunter can protest. 

“Hey, ya don’t gotta,” Daryl says after sitting on the couch like he told him; another small victory. Now he just has to put some food in the man’s stomach and they’ll be all set…for the night at least.

“It’s the least I can do,” he insists.

“Why ya say that?” Daryl asks with a frown. “Shane bein’ a psycho ain’t yer fault.”

The reasonable part of his mind knows Daryl is right, but he can’t stop the voice telling him that none of this would’ve happened if he’d kept his mouth shut. Maybe if he was more tactful. If he hadn’t yelled or acted so accusatory so quickly, or if he hadn’t prevented Shane from seeing—

“Rick!” Daryl snaps, cutting his line of thought. “Can hear ya blamin’ yerself from all the way here. Just stop, man.”

“You’re right.” Rick takes a deep breath and smiles. “I’ll stop.”

“Ya better,” Daryl mock threatens. 

Rick chuckles and moves closer to the couch to hand the remote to Daryl and put some cushions under his left arm so he can rest it there. “Watch some TV while I heat somethin’ up. Be right back.”

He’s about to turn away when he catches the weird look Daryl gives him. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’,” Daryl shakes his head. “Just…last time anyone did somthin’ like this fer me was…well, ya.”

Rick nods knowingly. He remembers too vividly the time Daryl fell down a cliff and stabbed himself with one of his arrows then showed up half conscious at the lake where he was supposed to meet him. He almost passed out himself. That afternoon he went home, lied to his dad telling him he was going on a camping trip with some of his classmates and moved in with the Dixon’s for a week to “Well, expect a lot of it these days. You’ll get sick of it.”

 

They eat dinner in the couch while watching a movie. Rick can barely pay attention to it, though. For some reason he keeps staring at the door, like Shane would magically appear through it and start shooting at them. But unlikely as that sounds given Shane is in custody and the chances of him escaping are slim to none, he’s having a hard time not worrying and his kids being away only increase his anxiety, even if they’d be safer at Carol’s in the case his irrational fears were to come true.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Daryl asks suddenly, interrupting his anxious thoughts.

“No,” Rick shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “Just can’t stop thinkin’ about the whole thing.”

“He’s behind bars. Ya got nothin’ ta worry ‘bout,” Daryl reasons.

“I know…” he nods and rubs his face with his hand and leans forward to set his empty plate on the coffee table. 

Daryl gives him a sideways glance. “Need me ta distract ya?”

He nods. “Please.”

“Was thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’ lately,” Daryl says then.

Rick smiles. “What?”

“I could use some help at the garage,” Daryl elaborates. “Office work ain’t fer me. I like ta get ma’ hands dirty.”

“Like a receptionist?” He looks at Daryl with a raised eyebrow. Daryl nods. Rick looks back at the TV. “I don’t know anythin’ ‘bout runnin’ a business.”

“Yer smart, organized, great with people. The rest ya’ll get the hang of easily. It ain’t rocket science. Can be just until ya get back on yer feet.”

“I’m not completely on my knees. I got some savings. But I’ll think ‘bout it, yeah? Sounds good,” he smiles genuinely. “Thanks, Daryl.”

“No problem,” Daryl says and extends his hand for Rick to take. He does and interlaces his fingers with Daryl’s then glances at the older man with a smirk. 

Daryl’s looking at him openly. Expectant. So when Daryl leans in ever so slightly, he does so immediately, closing his eyes to enjoy the feeling of his first love’s lips moving against his. And maybe they’re going a bit fast, given the circumstances, but Rick can’t care less. The knowledge that he’s free to continue as far as it may go, or leave it just as a kiss makes him smile against Daryl’s mouth. 

Daryl notices the smile and pulls away enough to look him in the eyes. “What?”

“Nothin’.” Rick shakes his head, unable to erase the smile from his face. “Just…everythin’s different now. You being back feels different. Makes me feel hopeful rather than conflicted.” He reaches up to brush a few bangs away from Daryl’s eyes. “And I don’t regret that night outside the bar. It wasn’t a mistake. I’m sorry I said it was.”

Cupping the back of Rick’s neck with his hand, Daryl presses their foreheads together. “I know.”

Rick smiles and closes the distance between their mouths once more.

The kiss is passionate, but it doesn’t lead to anything other than cuddling on the couch. The movie ended without them knowing what it was even about. The TV is off now and Rick has Daryl’s left hand between his and he’s studying it with a lazy smile on his lips, interlacing their fingers together. Daryl’s good arm is draped around him and Rick’s head is resting on Daryl’s shoulder. They’re enjoying each other’s closeness in comfortable silence. He never had that with Shane, the later always feeling the need to fill the silence with his voice.

Rick doesn’t want to move but it’s the second time Daryl tries to hide a yawn and the second time he’s yawned in return.

“We should go to bed,” Rick says and stands up, stretching. Daryl gives him a non subtle up and down look that makes Rick smile to himself. “C’mon. You’ll take mine. I’ll sleep in Carl’s bed tonight.”

“Nonsense. I ain’t havin’ ya outta yer bed fer me,” Daryl is quick to shoot him down then shrugs, “’m fine sleepin’ here on the couch.”

“The whole point of you bein’ here is for you to sleep on a bed,” Rick quips, hands on his hips. “You’re not sleepin’ on the couch.”

“Ya ain’t sleepin’ on yer son’s bed,” Daryl shoots back.

Rick smiles a flirty smile. “Then I guess we’ll have to sleep together.” 

“Works fer me,” Daryl shrugs and eyes him through his bangs. “Ain’t no reason tryin’ ta pretend we ain’t gonna fuck eventually.”

Rick chuckles and can’t help the blush that spreads through his cheeks at the forward comment. “Guess so.”

 

 

The next day, Rick drives Daryl to the garage for he refuses to take one day off, but promises not to put any strain on his arm and lay most of the work on Glenn. Nothing happened the night before but for some caresses and chaste kisses. They were that tired. 

After dropping Daryl off, and without telling Daryl where he’s going, he drives toward the station. 

 

“Last time I saw you behind bars you were sixteen and you’d punched Daryl while drunk. Good for you he was nice enough not to beat your ass,” Rick says as he approaches Shane's cell. 

Shane was always weirdly jealous of his friendship with Daryl, ever since Rick started hanging out more with the Dixon’s and less with him. But when he confessed to his friend what had happened between him and Daryl that night by the lake, Shane went ballistic. That was probably the same jealousy that made him shoot the hunter the night before. He never thought about it that way until now.

Shane gives him a look and hangs his head in shame. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

“Don’t think I came here for you,” he’s quick to reply.

A chuckle is his only answer. 

“You think this is funny?” he scoffs. “What you almost did? What you _did_ to Daryl?”

A long sigh leaves Shane’s mouth. “I don’t need your moral speeches, Rick. I know I fucked up.”

“Do you, really?” Rick cocks his head. “Cuz it sure don’t look like it. You’re takin’ this awfully lightly for what it really is.” He steps closer to the bars. “You were gonna kill me, Shane. And then you tried to kill Daryl. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” Shane offers casually. Rick snarls.

“That’s not good enough.”

“What do you want me to say, Rick? I fucked up. I went crazy, man.” Shane shakes his head then nods at him. “You know what that’s like.”

“Don’t,” Rick hisses, pointing his finger at Shane. “That’s not remotely the same. I didn't try to kill anyone.”

“What about Ty?”

The comment is left hanging in the air. Rick falters and lowers his head.

“I wasn’t trying to kill him,” he mutters after a moment, giving Shane a sharp look.

Rick’s made peace with himself about that incident. Ty took part of the blame. He’s not going to let Shane drag him down with him.

Shane glances at him then lowers his gaze and scratches his head. “Yeah.”

“You had me believe my daughter wasn’t mine,” he lets out in a low tone. “What were you tryin’ to accomplish by it? You wanted to make me suffer, is that it? Wanted to punish me for somethin’?” Rick finishes with a hiss.

“Would you’ve ever been with me if I hadn’t told you that?”

Rick frowns. “Judith’s not the reason why I got with you.”

“You sure about that, Rick?” Shane asks with raised eyebrows.

He doesn’t owe Shane an answer, but he thinks about the question anyway. 

Losing Lori completely devastated him and having his best friend around was pretty much what kept him in one piece. Rick never considered getting together with him until Shane started pushing for it while toying with the idea of going back to his place in between advances. He never said he’d be taking Judith with him, but the implication was there, hanging heavy on Rick’s shoulders, becoming heavier as the weeks passed and Judith became more and more a part of him. 

Now he thinks about it, Judith definitely influenced him. He was just too wrapped up in his grief to notice it at the time.

“Maybe…I don’t know anymore,” Rick strains out and gives Shane a pained look. “You’re a completely different person than what I thought you were.”

“You wouldn’t have, Rick. I know you. You would’ve gotten over Lori eventually and you’d found someone else…and I couldn’t let that happen.” Shane says passionately, firmly fixing dark eyes on blue ones. “I love you, Rick. I’ve loved you for longer than I can remember.”

Rick scoffed and broke the intense stare. “You don’t love me.”

“Yes, yes I do.” Shane covers his face with both hands as he takes a steadying breath. He looks at Rick then and there are tears in his eyes. “When you got shot…I almost lost my mind, Rick. And I tried, I tried to be strong for your family, for Carl…I tried to keep them sane, but the thought of losing you was more than I could handle. And weeks kept getting by and the doctors kept giving us these uncertain grimaces. Hell, Lori kept _me_ going at times. She was stronger than me. You should’ve seen her.”

“Is that why you tried to get with her?” Rick asks grimly. “Comfort?”

Shane nods slowly and licks his lips. “I guess being around her made me feel closer to you. I know it doesn’t make any sense.” He says nothing so Shane continues. “Rick… Being with you was the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“Then why'd you sabotage it with lies and with the cheatin’,” Rick huffs, gesturing with his hand, “puttin’ me down every chance you got?” 

“Cuz I knew you deserved way better than me and I couldn’t stand it,” Shane confesses through as tired sigh, looking at his hands. “Guess that was me tryin’ to bring you down to my level…but I never could.”

“That’s messed up,” Rick scoffs.

“I know.”

Rick looks at Shane’s beaten form and almost feels sorry for him… _almost_. 

“So how’re the kids?” he then asks and his gaze hardens into a glare.

“You don’t get to ask about them.”

Shane lowers his eyes and purses his lips. “Introduced them to their new daddy already?”

Rick just snarls. 

“I knew it.” Shane chuckles weakly. “The minute I heard Dixon was back, I knew I’d lose you.” 

“You lost me way before that, Shane,” Rick snarls angrily. “When you stopped being the friend I used to love and respect; when instead of helping me and supporting me you kicked me while I was down. When you threatened to take away one of the people I love the most to keep me under control. That’s not love.”

“Don’t matter much now, does it?” Shane sighs, looking at the cement floor of the cell.

“No,” Rick shakes his head and looks down too. He then looks back up at the man behind the bars and something akin to nostalgia settles in his heart as he thinks back on better times when he and Shane used to patrol together, laughing and talking about nothings to let the time pass by faster. He would’ve trusted that man with the life of his children. The man in front of him now, however, is a complete stranger. 

Rick averts his gaze once more and as he turns to leave, he resolutely says: “After all this is over and whatever sentence they give you for this…I hope I never see you again.”

* * *

Rick continues his pampering the following days and it’s driving Daryl nuts. He also enjoys it way too much. He’s not used to it, being pampered to—always more at ease with giving it than receiving it— but Rick always had a way of making Daryl feel worthy of his care and attention. He doesn’t even need to remember taking his pills for Rick’s got the schedule fully memorized already and shows up with a glass of water and both pills in his hand a few seconds before the alarm on his phone goes off.

For some reason, his first birthday after he met Rick keeps coming to mind. He’d never gotten a present aside from booze and cigarettes before—birthdays not being the exception. So when Rick found out about the forgettable date, he never once failed to gift Daryl something and make the day special for him during the four years they were together. The first was the most memorable to Daryl since he wasn’t expecting it at all. Plus, he’d only known Rick for a few months and he was completely oblivious to how much Rick cared about him in return. He’ll always regret losing the leather jacket Rick gave him that day.

Carl’s a cool kid and after two days, they already get along. They don’t talk much, though. It’s more of a silent understanding between them. And, in spite of having to see his dad getting aimed with a gun by his step dad just two nights ago, the teen seems to be handling it pretty damn well. 

“Dinner will be ready soon, Carl. Set the table, would you?” Rick calls from the kitchen door. He has on an apron that hugs his body nicely and Daryl can’t avoid trailing his gaze up and down the younger man’s fit form. They haven’t yet done much more than kissing and a few caresses here and there. They both know Rick will need time to come to terms with the Shane issue and what comes from it after the trial. And more importantly, the kids need to at least get to know him better before they jump into anything. But that doesn’t mean he can’t allow himself to entertain the idea of what he would do to Rick if the kids weren’t around. A certain someone would get thrown over the kitchen counter wearing _only_ that apron and—

“Carl! Would you _please_ set the table? I told you three times already,” Rick nags from the kitchen door, interrupting his train of thought. The man’s standing there with his hands on his hips, giving his son a stern look. Daryl has to stifle a chuckle at the adorable sight.

Carl answers without even looking at his dad. “Just let us finish this battle.”

“Kid, do as yer dad says,” he says, pausing the game. “We’ll finish this later.”

“Fine,” Carl huffs and drops the Joystick on the couch as he stands up with trademark teenage annoyance.

Daryl stands up as well to help carry the plates to the table. Rick gives him a stern look when he reaches for the bowl in his hand.

“Ain’t gonna use mah’ bad arm,” he promises. “Just…hate sittin’ ‘round doin’ nothin’.”

“Okay,” Rick concedes with a smirk and hands Daryl the bowl with mashed potatoes. 

 

They’re at the table. Rick is sitting next to Judith’s highchair and he’s cutting her chicken in tiny pieces to make it easier for her to chew on. Carl is eating like any ravenous teen in a growth spurt, not lifting his gaze from his plate once, almost daring anyone to try and steal a piece. 

Daryl smiles as he surveys the domestic scene before him and for the first time, he doesn’t regret leaving, that this is the way things were supposed to happen. If he’d never left, Carl and Judith—Rick’s pride and joy— might not be there. 

It’s a nice way to look at it. 

Rick looks up at him suddenly and frowns as he sees his untouched plate. “You’re not hungry?”

“Yeah,” he says, picking up his fork and gestures with it toward the little family in front of him. “I was just…ya know.”

Rick smiles, nods and looks at his daughter, caressing her curls. He hasn’t said anything, but the pain and weight lifted from Rick’s shoulders is evident. Now that he knows no one can take his daughter from him, there’s this lightness about him and every smile is more genuine than the last one. 

Carl is the first to finish. He takes a sip of water, leans back on the chair with arms folded across his chest, and gives both of them a curious look.

“So I’ve been wondering something and it’d be really cool if you guys answered it with the truth.”

Rick gives his son a wary look. “What is it?”

“Where you guys together before… you know… _way_ before?” Carl asks, but it’s clear he already knows the answer. Perceptive little shit.

Both Rick and he share a look. 

Carl continues. “I mean, dad told me a lot about you,” he says, addressing Daryl now, “and he always referred to you as his _friend_ ,” the teen says, air quoting that last word. “But he always spoke so fondly of you…I always assumed there had to be… _more_.”

When Rick looks to him, he nods. 

“We…” Rick clears his throat, gaze fixed on the table as he tries to elaborate. “We were.”

“We were kinda in love,” Daryl adds. 

Carl looks at him with a frown. “Then why did you break up?”

“Never did,” he says with a shake of his head. “I left ‘cuz of sum' issues I ain’t gonna tell ya ‘bout... but yeah, we loved each other.”

“Very much,” Rick adds, smiling at him.

Carl nods quietly, like he’s processing the information. “Are you planning on giving it another try?” he then asks.

Rick purses his lips and leans forward; eyes on the table. “If that were to happen… _If_ ,” he says carefully and lifts hopeful eyes to meet his son’s gaze. “Would it bother you?” 

Carl looks at them both in silence before a tiny grin forms on his lips. “If you love each other, I say go for it.”

Rick drops his chin against his chest, trying to hide the happy smile forming on his lips. He then looks up at Daryl and Daryl returns the bashful, happy smile.

 

After dinner and when Rick is putting Judith to bed, Daryl goes out to the porch for a smoke. He's still there when Carl comes out after dish duty and stands next to him, looking out at the quiet street. Daryl waits for the teen to talk for he looks like he’s got something to say. 

“I’ve known Shane since always,” Carl begins. “He was my friend. He and my dad got along well before my mom died.” Then, Carl turns to face him. “I know my dad wasn’t happy with him. And I know Shane didn’t treat him right. I also know that my dad would’ve never left him.” 

“How ya know that?” he asks, flicking the excess of ashes on the tip of his cigarette toward the street.

“Because of Judith,” Carl says after a few seconds.

Daryl looks down at the teen and studies his stern semblance. “Ya knew ‘bout that?”

Carl nods. “Shane told—” He pauses and sighs. “Shane _lied_ to me too.”

He keeps silent, letting Carl steam out his anger at Shane.

“That’s why I’m glad it happened this way,” Carl says, giving him a too mature look for a kid his age. “And I’m happy I was there to see it. That way I’ll always know what he almost did to my dad. And if he ever comes back, I’ll be the first to tell him to fuck off.”

Daryl eyes the teen with a smirk and tad bit of admiration. There’s a lot of Rick in Carl. 

“Then I’ll go second,” he jokes. Carl gives him a serious look.

“I don’t know you, Daryl. But my dad seems happy you’re here. He’s happier than I’ve seen in a while. And I want him to be happy.”

“’S what I want too, kid,” he assures. 

“Why did you leave him then?” Carl narrows his eyes. “And why did you never come back for him?”

Daryl takes one last drag from his cigarette and flicks the butt toward the street then turns toward Carl. “Cuz I didn’t think I was enough fer ‘im at the time. Thought he deserved better. Hell, I even thought I’d make his life miserable.”

“Still think that?” The teen asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Tryin’ not to,” he says with honesty. Truth is he doesn’t know if he’ll ever feel good enough for Rick, but if Rick is happy with him being around, then that’s really all he needs.

Carl nods and looks out into the street again.

“If you do stay and you do decide to give it another try,” Carl says, “you can’t leave him afterward. That would destroy him and I’m not letting you hurt my dad.”

Daryl sighs. “I ain’t gonna hurt ‘im, kid. Not again.”

“Is that a promise?” 

Daryl holds his hand out for Carl to take. Carl does and squeezes. “Promise.”

The teen then smiles and turns back to the house. Just as he’s about to go inside, he turns to him with a smile. “Welcome to the family then.”

* * *

Three weeks later, the investigation for Shane’s case continues. There’s been word about a maximum sentence of 2-3 years in prison, but it’s still early to tell. Whatever the case, Rick doesn’t seem preoccupied in the slightest, just eager to put it all behind them and move on with their lives. 

After closing the door to the office for the day, Rick approaches him. He’s accepted his offer to work at the garage and he’s already getting the hang of it. 

“Gonna go get Judy,” he informs while zipping up his coat. 

Daryl nods and turns back to the car he’s working on. “M’ almost done here.”

“Want me to wait for you?” 

“Nah. Ya go ahead. Gonna be here fer another hour.”

“Kay,” Rick says with a pout. “See you at home, then.” He leans in for a kiss that Daryl returns in earnest, but keeping his dirty hands away from Rick.

 _Home_. 

He loves it when Rick says that, gives him a warm feeling in his gut. All those years away, he could never find a place he could call home. He doesn’t know exactly what made him stop by in King County. He could’ve kept going, but that inner, wiser part of him knew something he’d been trying to ignore for years. Rick has always been his home. 

Just as Rick is about to exit through the door, Daryl calls out to him.

“Hold up,” he says and takes his rag to wipe the grease off his fingers. He carefully closes the hood of the car and turns to Rick who standing by the door. “Gonna finish up t’morrow.”

Rick smiles sweetly and reaches out for him with his hand. Daryl turns the lights off and takes the offered hand.

 

When Judith is asleep and Carl is out at the Anderson’s playing videogames like every Friday, Rick gets frisky on the couch. He straddles Daryl and starts kissing his neck. Daryl grunts in approval and starts slowly running his hands up Rick’s smooth back, then slowly slides them down to squeeze Rick’s ass.

“Let’s go to bed,” Rick huffs against his neck. “I’m done with this stupid waiting.” 

Daryl nods and grunts in approval. 

They’ve only exchanged blowjobs and hand jobs since that night at the bar so he’s more than ready to go further. 

Rick’s first intentions were to take things slow for Carl’s sake— even when the teen kept rolling his eyes telling them to get on with it already every time he saw them interact— but it’s been merely three weeks since the Shane incident and he’s already moved into the Grimes household. He never left, in fact.

Much like in the couch, Rick climbs on him, sits down on his cock and starts rocking his hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. His hands are flat on Daryl’s chest to keep himself upright and he’s biting his bottom lip to stifle the tiny grunts and moans that threaten to escape his lips.

Daryl can’t take his eyes away from the enticing sight above. Rick is absolutely breathtaking like that, rocking his body in waving motions and his hands can’t help but grip those sinful hips to impale Rick further on his shaft, keeping him there as he thrusts up over and over again, expertly aiming for that sweet spot deep within. Rick responds to that with keen, loud moans, throwing his head back and baring his throat to Daryl’s hungry hands.

Rick comes first, coating Daryl’s chest with warm release and Daryl empties his inside his love. They both collapse from exhaustion as they struggle to catch up on their breath; Rick against the mess on Daryl’s chest.

“That was good,” Rick comments in a spent tone. “Just like old times.”

Daryl snorts. “Feels like ‘m twenty two all over again.”

Rick laughs softly against his chest. “Still can’t believe you had me waiting till I was eighteen.”

He chuckles again. “Ya didn’ make it easier on me, if that helps any. Shit, ya were one eager lil’ shit.”

“I wanted you too much,” Rick says suggestively. “Although I _did_ get it and I admired your self-restraint. But it only made me want you even more,” Rick chuckles. “I still want you the same,” he says that through a long sigh, tightening his arm around Daryl’s chest. “I can barely believe you’re here with me. I’m happy, Daryl.”

Daryl reaches out to caress the soft curls and leans in to plant a kiss to Rick’s forehead. “Me too, sweetheart.”

They fall silent and eventually, they fall asleep in each other’s arms.

* * *

The shed is the same as it was the day he arrived back to King County, of course, still standing there in the middle of the woods like a crooked pile of rotting firewood, spoiling the otherwise perfect scenery.

The door protests loudly as Daryl pushes it open, moving clogs of moldy trash out of the way in its wake. He takes one step inside then hesitates. A hand intertwines with his and squeezes tight. Daryl squeezes back and takes a few more steps inside the shed followed close behind by Rick, the floor creaking loudly under their weight.

Daryl explores the place in silence. It’s quiet, almost peaceful in its solitude and abandonment. The sun light is slightly warm as it seeps through the dingy windows giving the place a less murky atmosphere than he expected to find. 

It’s just a torn down house. 

Somehow, the memories of years of beatings don’t bother him as much as he thought. They come, but they’re just that; memories, buried by the unforgiving pass of time until any emotional attachment Daryl had on them completely died. His dad was a jerk to Merle and he, but it doesn’t matter. That’s not who he was. It’s not what he is, and most definitely not what he’ll become. He’ll never be like his ol’ man. 

“You okay?” Rick asks suddenly, staring at him with those impossible blue eyes. Someone that beautiful doesn’t belong in a place like this. Daryl doesn’t either, so he makes his way toward the door, pulling Rick along. 

Outside, Rick keeps looking at him, expectant. Daryl pulls him closer, wraps his arms around him and presses their foreheads together, closing his eyes. He takes a deep breath, inhaling his love’s scent and slowly lets it out. “Better than I've ever been.”


End file.
